#I don’t have a design for him yet whoop

[patchworkbearss]

My brain decided that it wants to work on BOS so here’s valka and her boys

[indecisivemuch]

hii first of all luv the username cause as a libra rising, samedt ;-; i'd like to make a request for a luke x f!reader fic pls!! um, so they're best friends, and luke decides to confess to r by giving her gifts, letters, trinkets, etc. with hints about his identity, but she doesn't know who they're from. so she asks for luke's help to find out about the identity of her secret admirer. but what if there's like a mistaken identity and she thinks it's someone from the hermes cabin (maybe chris? or one of the stoll brothers idk) and luke's just all pouty but nonchalant or something, but deep down he's like 'how do i even make her see' or something (while also second guessing that maybe he shouldn't confess it's him) like fluff with tiny angst :>

Message in a Bottle

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You got a secret admirer and recruited Luke to help you find out who they are...ignoring the most obvious option (Fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, happy ending)

Note: I'm so sorry for the six month hiatus. It wasn't by choice, I swear 😭. So many bad things kept happening that prevented me from writing (is this the writers curse people kept talking about?). Also, the request wanted only a sprinkle of angst, but I kinda got out of hand with it I think 😭 (sorry).

Word count: 4.4k (whoops)

You’ve always thought that too much of something is bad. Yet, ever since the day your life intertwined with Luke Castellan’s, you weren’t very sure about that anymore. 

The two of you arrived at camp around the same time, entering a friendship that felt like hitting the jackpot. Your early days together were something that you both treasured dearly. Every time you thought a certain time period would someday be reminisced as the golden days of your friendships, new things would come, and top it off. 

However, golden skies were soon evaded by clouds of pink hues. You found yourself noticing and appreciating small details you haven’t noticed before about your best friend. Initially, you acknowledged the growing feeling but decided that they better remain as footnotes in chapters of your life. However, fate’s design was different to your plans, because two years later, here you were: you looked at him almost in the same way a fool would look at the world with rose-colored glasses (but then again, maybe it was because you have learned to embrace and adore his flaws).

“Luke!”

The Hermes cabin counselor snapped his head towards the sound of your voice, eyes straying from his duty of the hour. A smile began forming on his face as you came to view, almost like he has always been programmed to do so. There was a certain spring in your steps. Moments like these made Luke feel like he was a minimalist because your happiness was somehow enough to guarantee his own. 

You situated yourself next to Luke on the ground, not minding the dirt.

“Hey now, I’m meant to be watching these kids train, don’t come over and distract me,” the Hermes cabin counselor warned, though he didn’t move his eyes away from you. He simply couldn’t.

Everything about you served as a distraction to him. From the soft smirk gracing your lips to the innocent tilting of your head. Every little detail about you was captivating and was equally capable of drawing his attention away from wherever it was meant to be. 

In fact, his attention issue around you was getting rather shameless because his friends have begun picking up on it and started teasing him for it. Personally, Luke doesn’t think it was his fault. His eyes just happen to draw to you in every room like second nature, while his mind short-circuited every time you were near. 

Maybe, and just maybe being rational and able to function properly has stopped being his forte…at least whenever you were around.

Your eyes moved to the group of kids that were only going to be at camp for the summer. From the looks of it, Luke has just assigned them to practice sword fighting in pairs. You then glanced back at your best friend, discreetly drinking in the sight of him. 

No doubt he did his fair share of demonstration before letting these kids go off on their own, because right now, his face was slightly flushed, veins evident on his forearm while the familiar orange shirt clung onto his body with glistening sweat.

You shook away the non-platonic thoughts and teased him, “Oh, come on, you wouldn’t pass up on talking to me. You adore me too much.” 

Damn right, he does. Luke could feel his cheeks heat up again.

“Fine. What are you here for, firecracker?”

“I got another gift,” you informed, presenting the bracelet in your hand. 

For the past month, you have been receiving small letters and gifts. This time it was a handmade bracelet with beads of your favorite colors, as well as charms that represented some of your hobbies and favorite things. It was clear that your anonymous admirer had put a lot of thought into such a small item. However, as always, there were no identities attached to it, leaving you clueless about the person behind these gestures.

Luke took your hand in his, eying the accessory that perfectly fitted your wrist. He started toying with the beads around your wrist that were shining in your favorite color.

The boy’s gaze flicked from the object to you, catching your soft and warm look. Gods, if you kept looking at him like that, he might just actually stop thinking logically. He could practically feel a confession lingering behind his lips, threatening to spew the second his ropes of restraint died.

“Anyway, I came here with an idea,” you broke the silence. “What if I try to find out who this person is? I mean, some of these gifts are quite specific. They seem to know my favorite color, flowers, and things I like. Surely, it wouldn’t be that hard to narrow it down and figure it out?”

Something shifted in your best friend’s behavior and you could feel it. There was a slight flustering look on Luke’s face as he avoided eye contact with you. It was rather strange to see the Hermes cabin counselor so fidgety. Luke has always been confident and composed, and you’d often be the one to humble down his playful cocky remarks. Half-way through looking at his behavior, you began speaking:

“You…”

Luke could feel the blood draining from his face at your facial expression, his face paling despite how flushed he was seconds ago from demonstrating sword fighting. The boy tried to regain his composure, though his attempt at seeming nonchalant failed as you touched his arm. Did you—

“You can be my inside man, talk to these guys to see if they’d slip up or something like that.” 

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Luke hastily replied, clearing his throat.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did that come across as a suggestion? I hate to break it to you but being best friends means you sorta have to participate in my schemes,” your lips curled as Luke grunted at your words. 

“Yeah, but—”

“Luke, please…it’ll be fun,” he almost scoffed at your words and unconvincing argument. Clearly, the two of you had different definitions of fun. Just as he opened his mouth to reject your idea again, his eyes caught yours. You were looking at him in such an eager and heart-warming gaze that it made him forget what he was intending to say.

Ah, there was no denying anymore. Being rational and able to function properly has truly stopped being his forte.

“Fine,” Luke uttered, the word pricking his tongue as regret started kicking in as he accepted being your accomplice. This decision could only come back to bite him in the ass. He watched as you quickly celebrated his lack of restraint.

“Ah, you gave in quite quickly,” you jabbed.

“Shut up.”

Oh, you were going to be the death of him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two days have passed since you got Luke to agree to help you find your secret admirer. Though, the boy must say, the last forty eight hours have been slightly comedic for him, watching you trying to track down your secret admirer…

While the real sender of those gifts was right beside you, nodding along to your every word. 

Luke’s mind trailed to the origin of this “secret admirer” idea. He started it as a way to abate the urge of straight-up blurting out how love-struck he was with his own best friend, while also testing out the waters before finally confessing his feelings for you. 

Though it was slightly amusing how the idea led him to where he was right at that moment. The Hermes cabin counselor zoned out as he pretended to speak to another boy you thought was behind those sweet gifts and letters. 

Luke used to have those feelings under rein, but self-repression only caused it to grow exponentially. Initially, the Hermes cabin counselor dismissed those beyond friendly thoughts, thinking they would eventually fizzle away. However, against his predictions, this fondness towards you became a sort of companion to him for three long years. 

Not only that, years of excessively burying these feelings six feet underground also came back to bite him in the ass because instead of having his feelings under control, they now have the upper hand. 

Sometimes he felt like a puppet, while his feelings plucked the strings. His facial expressions were forever cursed to be sculpted in raw yearning whenever around you, having no choice over how he reacts to everything related to you.

But it didn’t matter, because he was going to finally confess soon.

Luke almost burst out laughing at the way you were standing in anticipation, waiting for his intel on the most recent candidate. It was entertaining, to say the least, pretending to engage in investigative conversation before heading back to you, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. 

However, it didn’t take long before the Hermes cabin counselor started feeling sour.

Just as he made it back to your side, he watched as you started talking again, already discussing the next guy you thought might have done these things that Luke himself came up with. He eyed your in sync footsteps with a heavy heart. Despite the matching movement, he somehow still felt eternally behind. Luke was so close, yet so far away, and never quite able to grasp onto your ever moving attention. 

Did you not consider him as an option at all? Did you truly not see him as anything other than a good friend? It started stinging him knowing you were considering all these other guys as potential candidates — the faces that now haunt him in his sleep, poisoning his mind with an acidic jealousy that was eating away his common senses and fueling immoral thoughts. 

Soon enough, that same jealousy seared his mind with this overwhelming self-doubt. Luke’s foot started feeling cold at the thought of confessing. Gods, he never thought the same security behind anonymity would now make him feel desperate to be seen by you. 

“Maybe I should give up,” you concluded, mindlessly staring ahead. Your attention elsewhere gave Clarisse and Chris an opportunity to send each other knowing looks. The two have been watching you run around in circles on a goose hunt, not knowing to look right behind at the sulking figure that was trailing after you. 

Your distracted state also meant you didn’t notice the moping human situated beside you. However, hearing your declaration of ending your chase, Luke saw a window of opportunity. Maybe now was finally the time to be truthful. After all, if he doesn’t tell you, then how will you know and see him? Luke’s momentary motivation carried him through waves of dejection.

“Y/N, I need to tell you something,” Luke blurted out without much more thought or preparation, and his tone made you fully turn to him. Just as words finally formed and the boy opened his mouth to tell you—

“Hey Y/N, can I talk to you privately?” Somebody interrupted. Your eyes didn’t leave Luke immediately, but when you saw your best friend’s momentum had faltered, you turned to the stranger. It was another Hermes boy, somebody who you’ve seen around. You politely agreed and left with him. 

“So, I heard you’ve been looking for the person who’s been giving you anonymous gifts. And well, it’s your lucky day, 'cause…” the boy stared you up and down while you subconsciously took a small step back when he leaned forward. “...I’ve decided to come forward and reveal myself.”

“Okay…well, prove it” you squinted. Though your skepticism didn’t make the Hermes boy in front of you falter. Clearly, he expected this.

“The first thing you were given was a note, and…the two most recent gifts were a cassette tape and a bracelet — which was made from beads of your favorite color and charms like…” you zoned out as the boy started listing out some of your favorite activities that were indeed the charms on your bracelet. You fiddled with the bracelet that you had purposefully hidden out of his view right behind your back.

There was a pinch in your heart that signaled the last bit of hope dying. 

Oh…so Luke really wasn’t your secret admirer.

You internally scoffed at yourself. You should have known right after he said yes to helping you out with finding your secret admirer — which was originally an idea used as bait to determine if Luke was the sender or not, because if it was really him then he wouldn’t have agreed to help you out with this. However, not only did your best friend agree without much convincing from you, but he had seemed so nonchalant and unaffected as you named all these boys you wanted him to talk to. 

Perhaps this secret admirer thing was something good. Somebody has shown interest and their actions have been nothing but sweet. Those letters contained words that were eternally bound to your memories, even altering the way you view yourself for the better. Maybe you could get to know this person and move on from hopelessly crushing on your best friend.  

Halfway through, you realize you were so engulfed in your thoughts that you have zoned out to half of the things the Hermes boy was saying, and merely caught onto the last bit of his speech:

“...thinking maybe we could go on a date and get to know each other more tonight?”

Your stomach churned again, yet you nodded your head.

Move on. Move on. Move on. Move on. 

Your friends gave you questioning looks when you got back to where they were, clearly curious about what you were pulled away for.

“So…that was my secret admirer, and I’m going on a date with him tonight,” you hoped you sounded more enthusiastic than you were feeling. You tried convincing yourself at least it was good knowing definitely how your best friend actually felt about you. Quickly sitting down, you kept your eyes on Clarisse, knowing if you even looked over at Luke, he’d be able to tell straight away that something was wrong.

Your lack of focus also meant you didn’t think much of the quiet murmur from your best friend: “Sorry, I just remember I need to do something.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. It was now the afternoon and you just finished getting ready for your date. As you were leaving, you spotted a note at the foot of your cabin. Seeing your name written on the paper, you picked it up while eying it peculiarly.

“You could be the one that I love, 

I could be the one that you dream of,

Message in a bottle is all I can do, 

Standing here hoping it gets to you.”

Your gut feeling stirred, hitting you with waves of higher certainty over suspicions you have previously had and denied.

Those lyrics were directly associated with a memory from summer two years ago. 

Luke and you were sitting by the campfire when he asked what your favorite song was. You told him the name and mentioned you hadn’t listened to it in a while because using technology devices with signals were dangerous for Demigods. The conversation slipped your mind but clearly loitered in your best friend’s mind, because two months later while on your way back to camp from your quest together, he gifted you a tape player along with a cassette of said song along with others that you liked.

You blinked away the image of you leaning on Luke’s shoulder while the two of you listened to the song together on the train back to camp.

You re-read the note again while shaking your head. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Perhaps, that Hermes boy knew the song and it was also one of his favorites. Perhaps—

Your hand started trembling around the paper. Your eyes landed on one small detail in the note: a particular handwriting choice. The rest of it matched with previous notes, but there was one singular scribbling feature you’ve never seen used before. 

Everything came crashing down and your internal eternal cycle of excuses and denial shattered.

You ran. It didn’t matter that it was raining and your attire was getting soaked. It didn’t matter at all because you were frustrated and confused. In other instances, you would have been elated at the possibility of mutual affection, but in that moment, exasperation blinded you from sensibility. 

If what you have concluded was true, then why on Earth would he allow you to go on a date with a person who stole credit for things they didn’t do? This whole time, he made you feel like a fool — for waiting that long and having hope after all that time; for asking the person you were looking for to hunt them down with you; for sulking despite having what you thought was a good opportunity to come along; for borderline going on a date with an imposter; and for not seeing it all along that it was him. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?” you called out.

Despite the rain, you could see your best friend’s figure stiffened before turning around to face you. The boy stood with his hands behind his back, not yet daring to look at you. 

“The “th”. You connected the cross in the ‘t’ directly to the ‘h’,” you presented the note in your hand, pointing specifically at the slip up that Luke had made in the latest note, not caring of the raindrops that were hitting the paper. “It’s how I write it, and you started writing it the same way a year after we got to know each other because you liked the way it looked,” you pressed further.

The expression on Luke’s face painted your theory into the truth of the situation. You felt your hand slightly shaking at the revelation.

“Why? You left anonymous gifts and notes and watched me put on this hunt — which by the way, was for you. And didn’t even say anything when a guy lied and said he was my secret admirer? Is this one big cruel prank?”

“No—”

“Oh! Well then, surely at one point in this whole thing, you felt like you should just tell me?” 

“I was going to.”

“Then where were you when I was just about to head out with that fraud? Maybe if you really liked me and really cared for me, like all those damn notes say, you would have fought for m—”

“I did,” Luke finally raised his voice, his face briefly hardened in an attempt to convey his desperation. His chest heaved, and the way it did almost made you think the anger radiating off every inch of his skin right then was directed towards you. But it wasn’t, and he knew you knew. 

“I confronted him right after he claimed that he was the one who gave you all those things.” 

Invisible ivies rooted your foot to the ground. You gulped, trying to digest the information you were given. However, it finally sunk in when Luke’s hands appeared from behind his back. It was then that you could see the bandage wrapped around his knuckles. Your breath hiccuped in both flattery and worry at the implication of what he had done. The darkness behind those deep hazel-brown orbs reflected a certain side of your best friend that you hadn’t seen before. Although, part of you felt like you wouldn’t mind it.

It made Luke’s blood boil knowing what he dedicated to you from the bottom of his heart was spoiled by ill intentions. Luke should have known better than to carelessly write all the letters and craft those gifts right on his bunk bed, rather than discreetly. 

Once again, the Hermes cabin counselor was pulled back to memories from an hour ago. The way the other boy shot remarks at Luke’s lack of precautions, boasting his wrong-doings like someone incapable of having a guilty conscience. Luke's jaw tightened as the image of the sly smirk on the other Hermes boy's face flashed in his mind, but a wave of satisfaction ran through him as he recalled how quickly that smirk was wiped away by his own fist.

They might be brothers by a fraction, but blood or not, that boy was dead to Luke the second he tried tricking you.

“And no, I wouldn’t have let you go out with a fraudster. Never,” Luke’s eyes softened. “And in case it’s not implied enough: I like you…a lot. I was going to confess but then this guy came along lying,” Luke could feel that tremor returning once more to his fist. He hated that something he built, from scratch, on the foundation of sincerity was momentarily tainted by the hands of a spineless liar. Not only that, he hated witnessing somebody so dear to him getting deceived in such a tasteless manner.

“I also…didn’t want to get hurt. It was starting to seem like you would ever consider me as more than just a friend with the way you were listing out all these other guys. So for a bit there I was considering just keeping quiet…forever” he confessed, eyes now straying away from you and down to his shoes.

You observed your best friend through a new perspective. So your initial suspicions were true. You had thought it was him because all the things you have received hinted to somebody who knew you so well, and who else at camp but Luke knew this many things about you. But ultimately, another part of you — the proclaimed “logical” side — has hyper-analyzed every split second you two have shared and deemed that Luke has not given any true signs of interest in you beyond as a friend. Thus, you dismissed the thought of Luke being your secret admirer.

You know now to trust your gut feelings more.

“Oh, Luke Castellan, you dumb ass…” you spoke softly underneath your breath, but you knew he heard you perfectly clearly from the way he slightly peered up. Your heart almost shattered at the dejected look on your best friend’s face and the thought of him burying his feelings eternally. You sure as hell would not allow that to be this timeline.

“I’ve liked you ever since the day you went out of your way and gave me that first cassette tape,” the marveled look on Luke’s face over your confession made you continue, “I guess I should have known it was you…cause gift giving has always been your love language.” It seemed like the boy was too stunned and struck frozen. However, his shell-shock state didn’t last long, because soon, your best friend’s gaze reverted back to the way he has always looked at you, only slightly more intense.

Your eyes fluttered at the sight of Luke Castellan in front of you at that moment. You were finally able to see the effect you’ve always had on him. The way his lips hung slightly agape, eyes dilated in such a way you were no longer able to see their usual color anymore, chest slightly heaving despite lack of physical reasons for such a reaction. You almost wanted to hit yourself for being such a fool and not spotting these details sooner. 

“Now, Castellan…you have two options,” you stepped closer to him, leaving an appropriate amount of personal space in between. “You either kiss me or—”

Luke grabbed your wrist with his uninjured hand and pulled you in. The same hand-guided your arms around his neck while also effectively eliminating the remaining distance between you two. 

Without hesitation, he kissed you.

Likewise, you returned the action without a second thought. You frankly didn’t care about the rain that was soaking the both of you. Kissing Luke felt like such a natural act that it felt simply like diving home. The way he held you made you feel like you were a national treasure he was so afraid of losing. Gods, you don’t think you mind doing this ever so often.

Though, there was a certain urgency in the way Luke kissed you, as if afraid you’d either vanish or you’d change your mind. You pressed your lips harder against his, hoping he’d understand you didn’t intend on leaving or having a change of heart.

A grunt escaped his throat as you kissed him harder. Oh, Luke Castellan already knew he was in immense trouble. He knew almost immediately that the concerning number of thoughts he had about you each day would only increase tenfold from this day on. He wondered if you could taste all of his unspoken words. If kissing you felt like this, he might as well sign away his heart, body, and mind to you. In fact, he’d sign anything you put in front of him without even considering the fine prints. 

Luke slowly backed you against a tree, giving you a bit of support to lean against whilst shielding the both of you from the heavy rain. He smiled into the kiss as you hummed at his action, feeling it echo against his lips. His heart tugged, almost leaping out of his chest when your hands made their way to both sides of his face, cupping it intently like holding something yours. Yours. Fuck, he loved the sound of that. 

You were the first to break the kiss. The both of you gasped for air while maintaining eye contact. The close-up view of his intense gaze drove your cheeks rosy. You could not help but admire the way his locks of wet curly hair clung onto his forehead, while raindrops fell from his face, some following the length of his eyelashes before falling — Oh, the way he glanced down at your lips at that second made you feel almost like you had the power to convince him into anything at the moment. 

“You’re my best friend…” he broke the silence.

“Mhm.”

“...but what if I want you to be more than that?”

“I can be both,” Luke’s lips broke out into a smile, and you mirrored his facial expression. He leaned his forehead against yours whilst softly rubbing his thumb soothingly against your waist.

“I’m not against that.” 

As a larger grin broke out on your lips, Luke’s eyes further softened. He realized right there and then that anything you wanted, he would not be against it. A breath of relief quietly escaped beneath Luke’s breath. He could not wait for whatever was in store for the both of you in the future.

Good thing his messages in a bottle did get to you.

-------------------------

masterlist

join my Luke Castellan taglist (or to remove yourself from)

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls Chapter 11 1/2

masterpost

“It’s hard to believe that these people aren’t on any warning lists yet,” Jason mumbled to himself at the base of the sidewalk where he’d parked the rental bike. He had his hands in his pockets as he craned his neck upwards, trying to be stoic about the Fenton residence. A van was parked on the street, probably theirs. Weirdly, it had a big canvas draped over it. All he could see were the tires.

The base of the house was an unremarkable brick rectangle, taller than it was long. But the customization job had not been subtle. There was of course the enormous neon sign that Jack Fenton had probably designed. He wondered if he saw Madeline Fenton’s guiding hand in the shitty space-age aesthetic of the hulking metal goliath crouched on top of the brick building.

There was zero percent chance that was legal, which led to the question of why the city officials weren’t enforcing building safety on an obvious hazard.

Jason blew out air and snorted. “This is definitely the place.” He jogged up the unkempt lawn and hit the bell. An alarm started whining inside.

His hackles went up. A hand curled towards a gun, but didn't fully commit.

A joyful whoop came from inside the house. It was quickly followed by a bellowed “Coming!”, and then a huge thud.

Very normal, thanks.

‘Is that really just their doorbell?’ Jason thought, aghast.

The door was wrenched open. “Hello, hello, come in!” A beautiful middle-aged woman was there, looking up only slightly to make eye contact with Jason. She had faint laugh and smile lines.

“Hello,” Jason said, hesitating. “Do you need to finish up in the lab?” He gestured at her outfit, a little unnerved to see protective equipment just out in the open. It made him feel underdressed. It was always a bad idea to be wearing less protection from chemical warfare than someone else in the area. His Gothamite sensibilities considered it both a faux pas and a tactical error.

Madeline Fenton made a flapping hand gesture to blow the idea away. “No, I'm at a good spot!” The grin she gave him was somehow sharklike. “Jeremy, honey, won’t you come in?”

‘Said the spider to the fly,’ his subconscious filled in for some reason.

Jason shook it off, thanked her, and entered the house. Then he drew his gun on the thing that levered out of nowhere to point at him.

Turret. It was a fucking gun turret, in the entryway.

Madeline Fenton let out a cheerful “Huh!” and put her hand on top of the turret. There was a faint beep as she disengaged whatever alarm that had been. “You don’t have any stowaways, do you?”

She was not a good enough actor. He didn’t know what the hell that he meant, but he could hear real tension beneath her cheerful tone. “No, ma’am,” Jason edged. “Not that I know of.”

There was a pause. It felt a little heavy. Jason slowly holstered his gun, despite the wary suspicion that he actually might need to defend himself.

The moment passed. Dr. Madeline Fenton whirled around and cupped a hand to her face to sweetly shout, “Jack! Honey! Our guest is here!”

Something extremely heavy thudded. The floor actually shook under Jason’s feet from the impact.

The smile on Dr. Madeline Fenton’s face didn’t falter. A chill went up his spine.

‘She has to be on a watchlist. No way. I just didn’t find it.’

He followed her to the living room where she gestured for him to take a seat. A huge man burst through the other door.

“What did they feed you?” Jason asked blankly. “Do they have more of it?” Sure, he’d never fit in his current gear, but Talia had deep pockets for custom armor.

Dr. Jack Fenton had a hearty laugh. The couch creaked when he threw himself on it, but impressively, nothing broke. “Standard stuff growing up I’m afraid,” he said cheerfully. “I feed myself an awful lot of fudge, though! Maybe that’s what did it.”

While he was talking Jason barely noticed Madeline Fenton had slunk off in horrifically perfect silence, like a red-haired Talia. He respected that, but he did not like it.

‘She’s going to be the Doctor to me,’ Jason decided. ‘Jack is just Jack. I’m tired of calling them the same thing.’

“Oh,” Jason pretended to just now notice that someone was gone. He looked around. “I’m sorry, where did Dr. Fenton go?”

“Just getting refreshments!” Jack said cagily. He leaned forward. “Now, Jeremy, son-” he was cut off by a low siren coming from his wrist. He paused. He lifted his hand and pointed it around the room. The noise got louder when he pointed it at Jason.

[catboyieejeno]

don't kiss and tell: 2 ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

other parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

pairings: best friend! mark + best friend! jeno + best friend! hyuck x female! reader summary: a week after the events of the kissing bet, you and the boys are having a game night. everything is going smoothly, but it seems the problem always arises when hyuck starts insisting he’s the best at something. content: non-idol au, explicit smut, cursing, pet names, drinking (everyone is tipsy), oral (f! receiving), slight poly action wc: 4.8k

masterlist

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

18+ minors do not interact !

your eyes shut tightly as though the simple gesture would make the beer you're chugging any more appetizing. from the couch, your friends whoop and clap, cheering you on.

despite their enthusiasm, you grimace at them, hiccupping.

“hyuck cheated!” the back of your arm comes up to wipe your mouth. with an exaggerated gasp, hyuck's hand flies to his chest as if your accusation could not have offended him more.

“whaaat? i did not cheat- actually, yeah, i definitely did.”

the boy yells out when you reclaim your seat beside him, landing a couple of half-hearted blows on his arm that he weakly blocks.

mark quickly recoils away from your fight, trying to protect both his red solo cup full of fizzy beer, and his last few playing cards from everyone's eyes.

"you have to drink too, then, cheater," droopy-eyed, jeno points this out from his spot on the floor where he sits, shoulders slumped and knees tucked into his chest. he lays his head onto the coffee table that has been repurposed into the night's designated gaming area, covered by an array of different cards, board games, console controllers, salt, beer cans, and a few too many lime wedges.

hyuck only whines in protest, shaking his head no, "i'm tired of playing cards," he tosses them onto the table, leaning back into the cushions with his blood-shot eyes closed.

"what? no! i was gonna win for sure this time!" mark groans.

"boohoo. you snooze, you lose, mark.” his words are somewhat slurred, spoken mockingly in a sing-song tone, “let's play another game.”

"mmm," you hum, intrigued, "like what?" the latest drink you had to chug just moments ago, thank you, hyuck, has made your cheeks glow hot, and while you're not yet drunk, you've definitely been tipsy for the last hour or so.

tiredly, you rest your head onto mark's shoulder and pat his back as he huffs, leaning in to show you his perfect hand that would have surely won him the game.

"i know! truth or dare." hyuck snaps his fingers as the idea comes to him, looking between all of you. mark finally gives up on the cards, discarding them on the table as he turns to you younger boy.

"dude, what are you," jeno snickers, "twelve?"

"jeno, truth or dare?" he pushes.

with a sigh, jeno decides to humor him and gives in, "truth," he replies, leaning back on his palms.

"is it true that you’ve been single for two years because yeeun cheated on you?”

“haha,” he mocks, “fuck your game. i’m not answering that.”

“if you don’t wanna answer, you gotta drink.” hyuck practically beams with satisfaction.

“fine.” jeno takes a swig from his cup, slightly furrowing his brows at the bitterness. he points back at the boy, suddenly more confident as an idea comes to mind, “truth or dare.”

as self-assured as ever, lee donghyuck smirks, “dare,”

“i dare you to call miyeon.”

immediately, mark snorts, taking a sip from his drink as he eyes hyuck, awaiting his reaction. as you pair the name with a face, you lift your head, gasping, “is miyeon the girl you made cry after you guys had sex?”

“that’s exactly right.” jeno nods mischievously, reaching for donghyuck’s phone and handing it to him.

“dude, no way.” he pushes it away, grabbing his cup instead, “i hooked up with her twice like four months ago and that was that.”

mark raises a brow, ”damn, were you that bad at it?”

“no!” he says incredulously, as if his question was beyond far-fetched, “i wasn’t bad at all, moron. in fact, she said i was the best head she’s ever had.” he gloats, eyebrows wiggling.

at this, you laugh. and i mean, really fucking laugh. hand-covering-your-mouth and on-the-verge-of-tears type of laugh, “yeah fucking right,” you breathe out in between giggles.

mark and jeno were just about ready to laugh in hyuck’s face too, ridicule him for bragging about something they doubted to be true, but following your reaction, they immediately bite their tongues.

hyuck turns to blink you, just as shocked as the other two boys.

"y/n... you're officially cut off." jeno pulls all the beer cans toward himself and away from you but you can only shake your head and wave him off with your hand.

“sorry,” you apologize, wiping the corner of your eye.

hyuck scoffs, “what’s so funny?”

you look between the three of them, lips parted. when you speak, your voice is bouncy with amusement, like your next words are the most obvious thing in the world:

“everyone knows guys suck at giving head.” ...cue the chaos.

“woah, what?!” jeno chokes on his spit, eyes widening.

mark puts his cup to the side, leaning in as if he might've misheard you, “there’s no way you seriously think that.”

“who the hell’s been giving you head?” hyuck retorts, sitting up straighter like he's suddenly very interested in what you have to say.

“every girl knows it." you explain plainly, "my ex was only okay at it and even then, i had to tell him what i liked a few times before he eventually got that hang of it."

now, it's the guys' turn to laugh.

hyuck chuckles in disbelief, "is that the only guy who's given you head?"

"no, there's been others." you reply with a shrug, a bit more shy with all of their eyes on you.

"like, how many, though?" the liquor was blurring all boundaries of friendship between the four of you; normally, mark would be too shy to even bring something like this up, yet here he is asking how many guys have eaten you out.

and jeno? way too respectful and modest to ask about something this, but now his eyes bore into yours, gaze unfaltering as he hangs on your every word. even lee donghyuck had never been so keen on knowing the details of your sex life.

there's a redness flourishing on your cheeks, and it's not from the beers, "...a few? i don't know. it's not like i keep count."

"none of those guys knew what they were doing, believe me."

"why should i? because one girl said you were the best she's ever had?" you mock, eyebrows raising in disbelief.

"oh," he smirks, "i'm pretty fucking good," you scoff at hyuck, crossing your arms. his eyes relax, looking at you teasingly. a line of white appears below his dark irises as he tilts his head, "what? you don't believe me?"

"no." you reply quickly.

"in all fairness, neither do i." jeno adds.

mark leans back on the couch, one arm across the top, "yeah, i gotta agree with them. sorry, man."

his tongue presses into his cheek, "alright, fine. it's my turn right? y/n, truth or dare."

you shrug, "dare."

"if you don't think my head is incredible then i dare you to let me prove you wrong."

your eyes widen. "truth." you quickly amend.

he laughs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "okay, i'll bite: y/n, is it true that you've never come from head?"

you debate not answering, but your mouth moves before your brain can finish the thought, "that's true." you're speaking barely above a whisper.

"then let me have the honor of being the first guy who-"

"well, hold on a second,” alas, you can always trust jeno to be the voice of reason, "hyuck, i'm not letting you represent. I'm definitely better than you," or not.

"i've lived with you for four years, jeno, and i never once heard you pleasuring yeeun when you were together. besides, it's been forever since you last went down on a girl. you're rusty, dude."

"i don't know. i think the best out of us is me," mark pipes up, liquid-courage taking over, "but i happen to be biased."

"woah," as the gravity of the situation registers, you hold your arms out, "you're all talking about me like i'm not here."

"you're right, princess," at hyuck's pet name, your clit pulses and you suddenly feel that much more intoxicated, even though you're barely even tipsy anymore, "so tell me, who do you want to eat you out?"

if you were completely sober, you would probably have said something along the lines of "what the fuck? ew! none of you." or maybe "who says i want any of you to eat me out?"

some snarky comment—or any comment at all, really—would've suited you just fine! but, the reality is: the mere possibility of your three best friends going down on you is causing your thighs to squeeze together subconsciously.

so of course, your words betray you, and what you end up pathetically muttering is "i-i'm not sure."

"hey, wait a second." hyuck turns to mark, then jeno, "this feels familiar, doesn't it?" the boys catch on to what he's saying, snickering quietly, "we all think we're the best right? so, why don't we make a little bet?"

you instantly whine in protest, "no, no way. i don't want you guys to make me pick a winner again."

"oh, don't worry," jeno brings a hand up to your knee, thumb rubbing your skin, "we'll definitely know who won this time around." he looks at hyuck, "trust me... we'll hear it," and you think, this may be the first time they so easily agree on something.

instinctively, you turn to your other side in search of mark who is already looking back at you through half-lidded eyes. he knew by your gaze exactly what you needed to hear.

"if this is something you want to do," his hand comes down from the top of the couch and onto your back to rub it soothingly, "then just say it, baby. we won't think differently of you. i know i speak for all of us when i say," his tongue swipes at his lips, "this will be as much fun for us as it will be for you."

you nod slowly, hips squirming, and let out a little breath. "okay. yeah, okay."

hyuck's eyes light up at your response and he shuffles back to make room in front of him, "lay down, pretty girl."

your stomach does a flip, unaccustomed to the collection of pet names hyuck is trying on you tonight, and you’re entirely sure there will be more coming from him, not to mention the other two boys.

you scoot down toward hyuck, brushing your hair to one side. behind you, mark pats his lap twice and you lie back, head resting on his thighs. when your eyes blink up at him nervously, he can't help but smile crookedly, captivated by you— so much so, that his pants get a noticeably tighter when he realizes he has the best view in the house.

"let me know if you wanna stop," mark reassures you.

"i don’t,” you mumble, keeping your voice steady despite the nerves and excitement bubbling in your stomach, “i don’t wanna stop.”

jeno sits a bit closer, "okay, but if at any point you're not sure, just let us know, yeah?"

"god, i can't wait to watch you fall apart." your head snaps back up to mark, and you clench around nothing at his words. there’s no way you haven’t pooled your panties by now, especially with the way you’re cunt is throbbing, edged on by the alcohol content in in your bloodstream.

"alright, baby. can i be honest?" hyuck asks.

you look down at him and nod your head yes, shivering when his fingers brush the hem of your shirt up a to reveal the button of your shorts and some of your stomach. a gasp leaves your lips as hyuck leans in, lips hovering over your exposed skin, breath tickling you with every exhale.

"i've imagined doing this to you many times," he continues, "you're so fucking hot." as he undoes the button and slides your zipper down, he places a single kiss above your bellybutton.

with one hand, he tugs off your shorts. they’re quickly discarded somewhere along on the floor and you're left in nothing but your panties.

now, the only thing left to cover your core from their hungry eyes is a thin, black strip of lace and cotton, and hyuck has to purse his lips to avoid drooling at the sight. his mouth is salivating, two fingers hooking around the material, "can i?" when you wordlessly nod, he purses his lips.

"tsk, tsk. try again."

"yes, hyuck. take them off.” you whisper.

he hums in approval and bemusement, removing the fabric in one smooth motion. your panties join your shorts on the floor.

every part of you is buzzing with sensitivity. the cool breeze that hits your slick makes you let out a shaky breath, and jeno chuckles from beside you.

both of hyuck’s hands slide up your bare legs and stop at your knees to gently guide them apart. he then settles between your thighs, sucking in a breath at the looks of you. your pretty folds are covered in your arousal, glistening, begging to be touched.

you can't help but feel small under the gaze of all three boys who gawk at you, growing hard in their pants at the way you're so pleasantly displayed for them.

"fuck, your pussy is so pretty." hyuck's eyes finally meet yours as he leans in to press a kiss to your thigh, one of his arms wrapping around to hold it in place, a preemptive measure, “i’m gonna make you come so hard,”

“we’ll see,” you tease, wiggling your hips slightly as if testing his grip and patience.

he only manages to scoffs at you, committed to doing it right; he wouldn’t bother to argue your lack of faith with words… as promised, he would simply prove you wrong.

you suppress a hiss as his tongue pokes out to lick a clean stripe from your entrance to your clit, eyes locked on yours and watching the way your lips part. teasingly, he kisses your sensitive bud a few times, tongue flattening against it as he seeks out how every action provokes a new reaction from you.

softly, just to test the waters, he attaches his mouth to you and sucks. when your hips slightly buck up, he takes a mental note, pulling back to lap at you again.

your core is buzzing eagerly, receptive to each new touch and sensation. everything felt fucking good, and he’s barely even begun. for the first time tonight, you think you’re definitely in over your head.

your first moan surprises you when he dips his tongue into you, fucking you with it at a passive pace, and you can’t help but lean up onto your elbows to get a better view of his face pressed into your cunt.

“you’re so beautiful,” jeno praises. his hand reaches up to hold your face and you lean into his touch, panting slightly as hyuck swipes at your folds. jeno trails his fingers down to stop at the hem of your shirt, eyes blinking at you for permission.

you nod, grabbing his hand and guiding it to push up the material of your shirt, revealing both of your breasts that sit covered by your bra. with a low groan, he squeezes one softly, still with your fingers over his, and brings the other to his pants to rub himself over the material.

mark grabs your other breast, whispering a quiet ‘wow’ in appreciation. you turn and he leans in, face properly close to yours now that you’re almost sitting yourself up. when his lips meet yours, you whine into his mouth, kissing him feverishly.

so much is happening at once, so many eager touches brushing your skin, so many sounds to listen for.

mark moans into your mouth at your kiss, jeno moans as he palms himself, and hyuck grinds into the couch, moaning into your core, shooting vibrations through you.

when you pull away from mark's soft lips, it’s because hyuck starts to pick up his pace, requiring some of the attention back on him now that he’s paid attention to and noted what you seem to like.

“oh, my god,” you mumble, letting your head fall back as your best friend works his tongue into you. your panting turns into whimpering, hips involuntarily grinding down into his mouth. the sounds get louder as he gets messier, shaking his head, arms holding your thighs down when they threaten to close.

hyuck smirks against you as he senses your desperation, taking one finger and slipping it into you as his mouth focuses on pleasuring your clit.

"how does it feel, baby?" mark whispers into your skin, lips trailing your neck and shoulder.

"so—fuck, hyuck, it feels so good," you moan out, no longer holding back. you're so close, and he knows it, so naturally, he adds another finger.

as you come, sputtering a string of incoherent pleas and praises, mark watches your face, admiring every expression you make. jeno has to stop palming himself at the risk of coming in his pants; instead, he focuses on gripping your breast and waist, squeezing occasionally.

hyuck keeps his pace up until he sees you're coming down, and only then does he slow down with you. when you recover, you're left panting, looking down at him in awe, and he feels his dick twitch. he crawls up to you, a mix of his spit and your release dripping down his mouth and chin, and kisses you. it's lewd, obscene, but you kiss him back hungrily, savoring your taste on his lips.

“not bad, huh?” he mumbles into your kiss.

“not bad at all,” you reply shakily, sitting up all the way. hyuck moves back, wiping his mouth with his thumb.

unable to wait any longer, jeno gets up from the floor, “my turn, doll. ready for round two?” he holds his hand out, which you take, standing up despite the wobbling in your knees.

“can this come off?” he tugs at your shirt. you quickly nod, pulling it over your head with his assistance. his lips find your chest and immediately, he's biting and kissing the part of your boobs that spills from the cups of your bra.

"bend over," he pulls away.

"what?"

"bend over the couch," by your hips, he spins you around, and you kneel on the cushions as instructed, grabbing onto the top and arching your back for him. when his hand comes down to land a slap on your ass, you cry out.

donghyuck, watching with intrigue from beside you, calls out to his friend, "she tastes so good, man," while he brushes your hair behind your ear.

"i'm sure she does," jeno lowers himself so that he's right between your legs. before his mouth even attaches to you, his fingers pull and tug your skin, playing with the way your thighs feel in his grip.

"are you ready, babe?"

"jeno," you start, "why do you always have to warn me before you-aah, shit," in less than a second, he's lapping you up, spitting and sucking at your folds. maybe its because you're still sensitive from your last orgasm, or maybe it’s jeno's eagerness to please you, but you find yourself writhing and squirming with every touch, much more than with donghyuck. and—when his nose bumps you in a particularly delicious way, all the while his tongue is massaging your clit—you whimper, arching even more.

he's moving his head up and down, something like a nod, to provide you with more friction, to taste more of you at once, gripping your skin tightly to hold you still or otherwise guide you where he wants you. it’s sloppy and messy, and you can’t resist moaning out his name.

“jeno, please, please don’t stop,”

you swipe your tongue at your lips to wet them and mark catches it. how could he not? his eyes have been on you all night. he reaches up, prodding at your bottom lip with his thumb. when your eyes meet his, his jaw goes slack and you mirror him, opening your mouth just enough for his digit to slip past your lips.

everything feels so overwhelmingly good in this moment—your lips wrapping around and sucking on mark's finger, hyuck pulling your bra down enough so he can pinch one of your nipples, jeno's tongue pushing into your entrance, two fingers coming up to rub your bud in quick circles—god, you feel like you're on fucking fire. each touch stands out as much as the other, each one makes your head spin and your eyes roll back.

jeno's pace hasn't let up once, and you spare a second to wonder if he's even breathing at this point.

"are you close, baby?" when you nod, mark takes his finger back, "then, say it, baby. tell me how close you are."

"i'm close, i'm so close. i'm-"

and then, it hits you.

you moan loudly, letting your head fall as jeno's fingers speed up. the sensation is almost too much, but when you try to recoil, his large hand that sits on your waist holds you still.

he's groaning into your cunt and it only makes you come harder. your toes are curling at the feeling, eyes squeezing shut. he doesn't stop or slow down like hyuck did; in fact, he keeps going until you're gasping out for air, legs squeezing together in desperation. he drives you until you're so intensely overwhelmed that you're seeing the stars behind your eyelids.

when he finally let's you go, you lean forward and prop yourself against the back of the couch as you catch your breath.

you feel him come up behind you, moving your hair out of the way to blow cool air on your neck, "y/n, that was the hottest thing ever," he mumbles and kisses your shoulder, resting his head on it.

"that was insane," you whisper, lifting your head to look at him. instinctively, he leans it to kiss you, tangling his fingers into the root of your hair. it's short and breathy, and when you pull apart to look for mark, he's no longer sitting on the couch.

your head pans around, "mark-?"

"i'm here, babe," a second after he calls out to you, he jogs over from the kitchen carrying a cold water bottle that he hands you, "drink some water, baby."

you twist the cap off and tilt the bottle back, replenishing your thirst, then handing the bottle to jeno, who chugs some down, also.

"thank you," you sigh out.

"yeah, course,"

jeno finishes the bottle and of course, hyuck instantly complains, "damn, dude, thanks,"

"you're welcome," jeno sighs sarcastically, tossing him the empty container. hyuck throws it right back, and they get distracted by that for a moment.

meanwhile, you turn to mark as he sits on the couch beside you, giving you some time to recover, which you don't bother to take. you're too interested in him, leaning in and pressing your lips to his soft ones hurriedly.

he wastes no time in kissing you back, just as delicately as he did earlier today, and just as passionately as he did last week. you crawl over so that you're closer, sucking on his bottom lip, swiping at it with your tongue.

mark hums into your mouth when your hand lands on his fully hardened bulge, "today's about you, sweet baby," he brushes your hair back, "come on, i want you to sit on my face."

your eyes widen slightly and he laughs, pulling you by the arm as he lies back and guides your hips up to his face.

"fuck, you're so pretty like this," he mumbles, eyes raking up and down your body as you hover above his face. you giggle, reaching behind your back to snap off your bra. as it comes off, you notice him staring, lips parted and teeth pressed tightly together to sound out a hiss.

"c'mere," his arms wrap around your thighs to tug you closer and you lower yourself until his mouth lightly brushes you. a shiver goes down your spine. you're so sensitive right now, on the verge of falling apart, but you need to feel mark's mouth on you.

his tongue licks you once over, then again, lingering for a moment on your clit. he kisses you there a few times, pulling away only to admire how swollen and wet you are from the events of the night.

you're starting to realize how much mark likes taking his time with you, savoring the taste of your lips before and now, relishing in the taste of your pussy. so, you intend to tease him a bit, just because you can.

one of your hands comes up to squeeze your boob, toying with your nipple, the other one running down and through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp.

he hums in appreciation, watching the way you play with yourself and stare down at him, bottom lip between your teeth.

he breathes hot air into your core when he chuckles. then, he lays his tongue flat against your core, guiding you to grind on it. you moan out quietly, practically whimpering as he sets your movements to a pace. the slurping sounds get progressively louder as his brows furrow in concentration.

"do you like that?" his voice is muffled, but you understand him nonetheless.

"yes, baby, right there," you whine, squirming a bit when his tongue moves side to side, a gesture so delectable that you react by tugging on his hair. at the pet name, falling from your lips so sweetly, exclusively for him, mark grunts into your core. he lifts his head off the couch slightly to rock you against him with more ease.

you lose track of jeno and hyuck and you can no longer hear them behind you. the only sounds now are the wet sounds coming from between your legs and the strangled moans coming from your throat.

it’s so intimate and intoxicating, the eye contact he holds with you, determined to catch every hint of desperation on your features. when he pulls away for air and you whine at the loss of contact, making him laugh yet again, "you make such pretty noises for me," one of mark's arms unwraps itself from your thigh, right hand reaching up to cup your breast. "i want you to come on my tongue,"

he attaches himself to you once more and his words send you over the edge, "mark, i'm-" the only reason you don't fall over is because as you reach for something to hold onto, mark takes your hand into his hold, intertwining your fingers. he moans into you, letting his tongue explore in you and against you until your juices are dripping down the sides of his face and his chin.

the pleasure is white hot and so unbelievably intense, melting your thoughts to mush. you’re trembling above him, bottom lip quivering from the waves of ecstasy that hit you full force.

and mark? he’s staring at you, his own hips slightly tilting up as he imagines all the other ways he could make you come. his own release is so close, the black jeans he’s wearing lending him just enough friction to groan in you again. he could come untouched just from the view you’re giving him.

when you finally still your movements, he kisses your bud and you shake a little, "you did so good." his voice is hoarse, lower than usual from the way he just devoured you.

"that was amazing," you whisper weakly, lifting yourself off of him. he pulls you in so that you're lying down, your face is level with his, "please kiss me," you plead innocently.

incapable of denying you anything, especially when you ask so politely, mark pulls you in by your jaw, kissing you softly.

"did you have fun?"

you nod, "yeah, i did. did you?"

"fuck yes. i literally almost came in my pants." he admits. you laugh and nuzzle your face into the material of his hoodie to hide the way your cheeks are turning bright red.

at the sound of feet padding against the floor, the two of you break apart slightly and turn to see jeno coming in from the kitchen, water clutched in his right hand.

"where's donghyuck?" you wonder.

"bathroom," jeno snorts, "said he had to rub one out."

"of course he did," mark sighs.

"yeah, uh, so do i... so," he clears his throat, "i'll be in my room," awkwardly, he walks away, one hand cupped over his crotch as if you and mark didn't know he was obviously turned on.

when jeno disappears behind his door, you turn back around to look at the boy you're laying on top of and- oh shit.

"oh, my god-sorry!" you rush out in a panic, lifting yourself up, "sorry, sorry!"

"no, it's fine, bab- i mean, y/n."

"i-uh, got caught up in the moment." you quickly explain, apologizing again. when you grab your shirt and panties and slip them on, mark turns around to give you privacy.

"no, you're good. it's fine, i got caught up, too, i-"

"mark, you don't have to turn around like you haven't seen me, i just sat on your face."

"right," he spins back around slowly, but not before fixing himself in his pants a bit, "do you," he sighs, calming his heart, "do you want me to get you some of my clothes so you can take a shower? you can sleep over, too, if you want. it's kinda late."

"yeah," you nod, "that'd be great."

"okay, uh, i'll take the couch. let me," his mouth is exceedingly dry, "go get you something to wear."

you finish putting on your shorts, just so you can be decent for now, as mark leaves, somehow more nervously than jeno had just moments ago.

exhausted, for more reasons than one, you lean against the couch, hands covering your face. everything that went down flashes before your eyes as you sigh heavily, busy with your thoughts.

there's simply no way you'll be able to sleep tonight.

ੈ♡˳

[1arkspur-aconitum]

THE BLIND LEADING THE BLIND (s.r.)

IN WHICH: Spencer shows up late to work wearing glasses for the first time…

PAIRING: Season 3!Spencer Reid/Fem!BAU!OC

CATEGORY: fluff

CONTENT: pining, oblivious idiots in love, swearing, Emily being a little meddler

WORD COUNT: 3.7 (this was meant to be only 1k…whoops…)

PUBLISHED: 03/10/24

‘OH MY GOD.’

It’s the best I can do. It is the only thing I can think as Spencer Reid steps through the glass doors into the bullpen.

It’s one of those rare days where Spencer arrives later than me—later than the rest of the team, in fact—and I’m already sitting at my desk when he walks in. A cup of coffee from the Paper Cup (arguably the best coffee in Virginia, bite me Derek Morgan) steams away beside a half-eaten blueberry muffin, the crumbs of which litter the crossword before me. It’s partially completed, but I have yet to finish this specific paper’s puzzle without the genius’ help—I swear it’s almost as if they designed it for him. I’ve even marked little stars next to the ones I’m intending to ask Spencer.

Or, at least, the questions I was intending to ask Spencer. I may not ever get the opportunity to because I think he has decided to kill me this morning.

Spencer Reid steps into the bullpen dressed in brown slacks (as usual) and a striped shirt tucked into said slacks (also normal), but that’s where the familiarity ends.

He’s not wearing a tie which is very bizarre. In fact, the top buttons of his shirt are undone as if he’s rushed out of the door. From this distance I can see the contours of his throat.

We once had a surprisingly in-depth conversation about why ties are more commonly associated with men (due to the inherent power and authority we attach to them) and Spencer said that he tried to always wear one because it made people take him more seriously. I distinctly remember it because it made me kind of sad. The idea that people didn’t take him seriously bothered me more than I’d care to admit.

It’s not the tardiness, nor the lack of a tie, that wipes every thought from my brain, though. It’s not even the way he has pushed his hair away from his face like he’s some kind of Disney prince—though that on any other day would have done something similar to hitting the delete key on a computer.

No, it’s the damn glasses.

Spencer Reid has the audacity to be wearing a pair of horn rimmed glasses.

They’re perched on his nose as if they belong there, which—judging by the way they make his face distort when he turns to greet Derek—they do. I don’t know what it is specifically, but seeing him in glasses makes my stomach drop out of my feet, through several floors of the Quantico building, and deep into the ground.

Obviously Spencer is smart. Anyone who has the luxury of meeting him can tell you as such. It’s not as if he hides it, mister three PhDs and counting. But…but the glasses just do something extra, highlight that aspect of him, and I’ve always been a sucker for intelligence.

I genuinely didn’t think he could get prettier.

‘Shut your mouth, you’ll start drooling.’ Emily sidles up to my desk, thankfully keeping her voice low. I jump embarrassingly and manage to drag my eyes away from where Spencer is deep in discussion with Derek about something Derek doesn’t appear to want to talk about. Astrophysics? The flight path of bumblebees? If I was in Derek’s place, I would be hanging off of Spencer’s every word. ‘Honestly, could you be any more transparent?’

‘I���I’m not transparent!’ I say, but it does take me a second to work out what she’s saying. I take a distracting sip of my coffee, trying to ignore how the light slicks off of the frames as Spencer nods vigorously. A small strand of hair falls into his face and he brushes it away carelessly. ‘Maybe—maybe I was just…admiring the make, or something.’

‘I’m not stupid.’ Emily scoffs, knocking me with the back of her hand. She seems as if she is enjoying this way too much. There’s a sardonic gleam in her eye as she raises an eyebrow. I glower up at her over the rim of my coffee, imagining how it would feel to toss it in her face—anything to get that smug look off of it. ‘You can barely form a sentence.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ I turn my nose up at her haughtily. I feel very much the petulant child denying having broken into the biscuit jar even when their mouth is covered in crumbs. ‘See? A perfect sentence.’

‘You’re not fooling anyone.’ Emily feels the need to tell me, eyes flickering between me and Spencer. I make a conscious effort not to look at him. It’s harder than I thought it would be. I wedge my foot underneath one of the spokes of my chair, forcing it to stay directed towards Emily. She grins as if she can sense my inner discord. ‘Y’know, for a profiler, you’re not very good at being discreet.’

‘I’m always discreet.’ The lie tastes bitter in my mouth and I follow it up with a sip of coffee. I don’t know where to look, what to do with myself, so I decide to focus on Emily. She’s wearing a new pair of trousers that have an embellishment up the side, a few beads shining in the sunlight streaming into the office. I wonder if she’ll let me borrow them…

‘I beg to differ.’ Emily perches herself on Spencer’s desk, crossing her legs. The tiny beads glitter like a mirrorball. This is fun for her. She likes making me squirm, and my respect for Emily is declining with every moment she holds me under this particular microscope. Part of me wonders if Emily truly is a sadist. ‘Come on, just admit it.’

‘I refer you to my previous statement,’ I swing my chair around even more to face her, firmly putting my back to where I assume Spencer and Derek are still talking. God, please don’t overhear this. What would I even say if he did? ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘Sure.’ She laughs brightly, not believing me for a second—to be fair to her, I don’t even believe myself. I really should get better at lying to my coworkers. It’s frustrating that, to be a profiler, you have to be inherently astute. I’ve always been a relatively open book, which makes this whole situation worse. I have no doubt that my every thought is plastered there for her to dissect. ‘I can’t blame you, you know. I mean, it is very…different. If you’re into that kinda thing, which I think you are—’

‘Please stop.’ I say. My fingers tangle into my hair as I lean forwards, the points of my elbows bruising the soft flesh above my knee.

I hate this feeling. Being so exposed, so vulnerable, being seen like this has never been something I’ve enjoyed. Maybe it is something to do with my childhood, but I never like to think about that too hard. What it comes down to is that I can tease people incessantly, but when the tables have flipped? I hate it. I wonder what that says about me..

‘Just ask him out.’ Emily’s voice is softer now, less ribbed with merciless humour. I look up at her with a disgusted expression–as if that would ever happen. Spencer is my colleague, my friend. There’s no way I’m putting myself out there like that, and she should know that already. She sighs. ‘Seriously. What’s the worst that could happen?’

Uh, everything? He could say no. I could seriously embarrass myself–a habit I have a tendency to do. I could vomit on his new shoes. In fact, Spencer probably doesn’t even like me in that way–thinking about it, I have no idea if Spencer’s even attracted to anyone. He’s never spoken about dates like Derek does, nor mentioned exes. When we talk about our first kisses, he stays silent. Whenever the topic deviates towards something unsuitable for work, Spencer noticeably stays out of it. Maybe he’s just not into anything like that.

That thought hollows out the pit of my stomach for a second.

‘If I answer that, then you’ll just think that I know what you’re talking about.’ I sense her words for the trap that they are. What a sneaky bitch. I narrow my eyes at her and Emily’s eyebrow twitches imperceptibly. A tell. Ever since we met, Emily has had a thing about trying to trick me into confessing my secrets at any opportunity she can get. I think she thinks it’s more fun if she doesn’t ask the question straight up. ‘So no. I’m not going to deign that with a response.’

‘You’re impossible.’ Emily groans. She tries to kick my chair with a free foot, but misses by a mile. Sucker. Like the child I am, I stick my tongue out at her. ‘Come on, you have no idea how painful it is to watch you pining–’

‘You think watching me pine is painful?’ I retort, propping my chin up on my elbow. It’s only when the words are out of my mouth that I realise I may have given a little bit too much away. Emily’s eyes light up with a familiar glee. My cheeks heat and I scowl. ‘Besides, I was merely observing.’

‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey.’ Emily practically purrs, a mischievous glint in her eye that I decidedly do not like. She pushes off of Spencer’s desk, her fingers trailing along the edge as she meanders to her own. As she does so, her lips curve into a knowing smirk. She mutters something under her breath that is just loud enough for me to catch the hint of amusement.

‘Care to share?’ The words are out of my mouth before I realise that I probably won’t want to hear what she has to say. Yet another one of Emily’s verbal pitfalls—I can’t be expected to spot all of them after-all. Sometimes I think talking to Emily is like navigating a field of bear traps.

‘Oh, nothing—just that you two are more similar than you realise.’ Her voice drips with feigned innocence. She chuckles as she sits herself down, opening a stack of files on her desk with a flourish, effectively ending the conversation and leaving me in a whirlwind of my own thoughts.

More similar than I realise? What on Earth does she mean by that? I know we’re both considered smart—we’re both doctors, we work in the same field, we’re around the same age. Admittedly, I’m not as smart as he is, but everyone can say that. There’s always been something different about Spencer.. He has always been a cut above the rest, a standard no one else can possibly hope to achieve. How could I ever compare myself to that?

I turn my seat around and allow myself a brief glance over to where Spencer and Derek are still standing. Spencer is still talking animatedly, hands gesturing in the space between them. Don’t even get me started on his hands because we could be here for literal hours. A doctoral thesis is 60,000–80,000 words. I reckon I could write that much purely on his hands.

Derek is currently looking at him with a fond, if slightly exasperated expression, having succumbed to his fate of listening to whatever it is Spencer is rambling about. They’re a strange pair but there’s no doubting the love they share between them. It’s honestly so endearing.

My gaze drifts from the pair of them to Spencer. With the glasses, it’s different somehow. The lenses magnify his eyes, making them larger, more expressive. I can see the rapid movement as he processes whatever Derek is saying in response to his rambling, I can watch the slight furrow of his brow as he formulates a response. The more I inspect him, the harder it is for me to work out why I like them so much. Perhaps it’s because he seems…softer, somehow. Less intimidating and more approachable.

More human.

Then it hits me.

The glasses are a vulnerability. They’re an admission that the perfect Spencer Reid is anything but, that, as much as his mind is as sharp as a blade, his eyesight is not. For some reason, that makes him even more attractive to me. Though, to be fair, there’s not much that would make him less attractive to me.

I tear my eyes away, a familiar heat rippling up the back of my neck. I can’t believe I’m having thoughts like this about my coworker. It’s unprofessional, impolite, and definitely dangerous. But I can’t seem to stop myself.

Every time I see him in those glasses, the more I think about what it would be like to kiss him with them on. Would he take them off, or would I? Or, maybe, he leaves them on as I wrap my hands around the back of his neck, pulling him down towards me. They wouldn’t get in the way if we were careful…

For God’s sake.

I try to focus on my crossword but the words swim before my eyes. All I can see is Spencer’s face with those damn glasses, and the annoyingly infuriating way that they make his eyes sparkle. Perhaps Emily is right–perhaps I am as transparent as a window. This whole thing is stupid. I shouldn’t be having these thoughts, but it’s not like I can defenestrate them very easily.

Just as I am contemplating burying myself under several feet of damp earth, effectively giving up on the day entirely, Spencer and Derek seem as if they finish their conversation. Derek claps Spencer on the shoulder as the pair of them start to make their way towards us. I do my best to look busy, scribbling down a word on my puzzle that I am 99% sure isn’t correct. My heart hammers in my chest.

Jesus Christ, get your shit together, girl. It’s just an awkward, tall, lanky man. He’s not Hugh Grant. Or James Marsters. He’s just Spencer.

I don’t know if that sentiment makes it better or worse.

‘Morning, June.’ Spencer’s gentle, warm voice drags me out of my shame spiral. When I look up, he’s standing next to his desk, hands clasped in front of him as he peers down at me through those fucking glasses.

I plaster as much of a genuine smile on my face as possible. ‘Morning, Spencer. You’re looking very dashing today.’

Dashing? What the hell was that? Who says that? If I could make a time machine and return back to a few seconds earlier, I would. But, alas, I simply have to wait and see how Spencer responds.

His lips quirk upwards in a shy smile. ‘Really? Thank you. You, uh, you look rather…rather lovely yourself.’

‘Oh, uh, thanks, Spence.’ I mentally kick myself for sounding so flustered, looking anywhere but directly at him. I don’t think I look ‘rather lovely’ today–I’m wearing brown denim flares and a shirt, nothing too fancy. I try to regain some composure. This is so unlike me that it scares me. ‘So, new glasses?’

‘Oh, yeah,’ he says, pushing them up the bridge of his nose with the back of his hand. My eyes trace a vein that vanishes under the cuff. ‘I ran out of contacts and didn’t have time to go to the opticians. I don’t really like them, though, they kind of get in the way.’

‘Really?’ I try not to sound too surprised and/or offended, but I don’t think it worked very well. The next words I say are pumped with honesty. ‘I think they look good on you. Actually, they really suit you.’

‘Do you genuinely think so?’ He sounds as if he doesn’t believe me, but the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles. I nod, mouth suddenly very dry. Spencer sits on the edge of his desk where Emily had been moments before, crossing his long legs at the ankle. The odd socks (pink on the left, neon green on the right) make me smile. ‘I always think they make me look…well, nerdy. Derek agrees.’

I can’t not laugh a little at that, taking a sip of my coffee as I work out how to say what I want to without seriously offending him.

‘Spencer, sweetheart, I’m sorry to tell you this, but you are the epitome of nerdy without the glasses. And–and that’s not a bad thing in the slightest. It’s part of what I like about you.’

‘Oh.’ Spencer turns a furious shade of red, eyes dropping like a stone to stare intently at the floor. I immediately regret the words, but have to play it off as if I don’t. Sweetheart is a new term of endearment and one I didn’t intend to use, but it slipped out. I lean back in my seat, angle my head…do I backtrack? Do I apologise? I’m about to do as such when I see it. A tiny smile. Spencer’s next words are just loud enough for me to hear. ‘Well, thank you.’

‘That’s okay.’ I grin, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to put on a picture of nonchalance. If Emily is to be believed, he can see right through it, but it makes me feel better. I need to say something–anything–else before the silence gets too loud. ‘I actually didn’t know you wore contacts, let alone glasses.’

‘Yeah, I just find contacts easier���did you know that Leonardo da Vinci was the one who was first credited with coming up with the idea of contact lenses in 1508? It wasn’t created in his time, of course, but he was the one who first posited the idea of altering corneal power.’ Spencer’s hands gesture in the space between us as he endearingly rambles on about the creation of contact lenses. It’s sweet, and I let him talk for a while, using this opportunity to watch him. He’s just so pretty that it’s hard to focus. ‘And modern day lenses, the silicone ones, weren’t made until 1998.’

‘Wow, that’s kinda cool.’ I hum, taking a sip of my now almost-cold coffee. ‘I don’t know, I had you pegged as the kind of guy who doesn’t like putting his finger in his eye.’

‘What?’ Spencer chuckles, raising an eyebrow. He pushes his glasses up again and my heart stammers. ‘How could you possibly know that about someone?’

‘Spencer, you’re a known germaphobe. You don’t even shake hands.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t want someone else to put my lenses in,’ Spencer physically shudders at this idea. ‘But if I do it, it’s just my germs.’

‘I suppose that makes sense. If you had a twin, though, would you let them do it? Or someone with super clean hands? What about if you broke your hands and your glasses, and needed someone else to put them in for you?’ I rattle off question after question, knowing I really should stop talking, but it’s as if there’s a torrent of words I cannot control. ‘I mean, there are plenty of, of situations where you may need someone to…to put your contacts in…’

What the fuck am I on about? Oh God, this isn’t happening to me…I never thought I would be so swayed by a pretty face.

‘You’re a strange one.’ Spencer says, after a beat, and his voice is playful. He leans backwards and braces himself on the desk. ‘I don’t know, it depends. I mean, I wouldn’t let Derek do it, but…’

‘I wouldn’t let Derek do it for me, and I don’t even wear contacts.’ I laugh, tilting my head to the side and giving him a cheeky grin. He returns it, and for a moment, we just look at each other. The world narrows, as it always does, to just me and him. There’s a familiar warmth in my stomach that has always been intoxicating.

‘I’d let you put my contacts in.’ Spencer says the words as if they had been building up behind his lips. Pink stains the tops of his cheekbones. It might be a trick of the light, but I’m pretty sure that his gaze flickers down to my mouth for a fraction of a second before returning back to my eyes. My breath hitches and I have to look away.

‘Really? I don’t know if I should be flattered or kind of grossed out.’ Another sentence I regret saying, but what does one say to something like that?

Spencer laughs, but it sounds kind of forced. ‘Well, let us hope that it will never come to that. But, if it does, don’t let any of the others do it. Lord knows where their hands have been.’

I laugh too, but before I can say anything more, Hotch’s voice booms across the bullpen. He’s calling Spencer to his office, and the tranquil spell between us is shattered.

Spencer jumps, startled, and clears his throat. He pushes his glasses further up his nose and stands up. He offers me a muttered ‘sorry’ as he walks away, speeding out of the bullpen of desks and heading towards Hotch. I watch him go reluctantly, only looking away when he vanishes inside and the door closes behind him.

The groan I let out is loud enough to make Derek look up, but I bury my head in my hands before any of them can jump on me whilst I’m vulnerable. What the fuck was that? I’m not usually one to get flustered when faced with a pretty man, and usually I’m pretty confident around Spencer. Evidently there’s something about the glasses that turns me into a blathering school girl. It’s so stupid that I have no choice but to get a grip.

When I look up from my hands, determined to not let Spencer’s new eyewear affect me, Emily is watching me with a bemused expression. She must have heard the entire interaction.

‘Smooth, June. Real smooth.’ She says from over her coffee mug, the steam coiling around her like she’s some demon. The devious grin on her face doesn’t help that mental image.

I simply flip her off and return to my crossword.

Nosy bitch.

THANK YOU FOR READING! I CAN’T DECIDE IF I LIKE THIS OR NOT BUT FIGURED WHY NOT? MORE SPENCER REID FICS ON THE WAY!

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: Yuji's picked up skating and Choso wants to as well - problem is, he's got two left feet. And that's where you, Yuki's extremely good-looking friend, come in. A/N: SINCERELY SORRY IF YOU GUYS CAN'T SKATE ice skating is a pastime of mine and grrrr Choso skating was doing things to me. Requested by the lovely @ash4ree, I hope you like it! WARNINGS: GN reader, modern AU where Choso and Yuki run a tattoo parlour and no swears this time I swear (whoops, one right there)

“…Kamo, I think you better let me take over the cashier. You’re really spacing out hard.”

“Huh - what - oh, sorry, Yuki.” The man shook himself out of his daze, running a tense hand through the untidy strands falling out of his two spiky buns. He takes the proffered thermos and downs a gulp of coffee, grimacing and opening his mouth to fan his tongue. “Crap, I forgot it was hot.”

“Case in point,” the blonde announces, gently elbowing him away from the counter. “Go get your lunch break, dummy. You’re not helping sales if you just stand there staring out the store like a creep. Did something happen?”

Choso reluctantly peeled himself away and began looking for his packed lunch. “Not really.”

“Not sleep well last night?”

“No, no, I slept fine.”

“Well, you’ve been doing a pretty good job with latest customer’s tattoos, so it can’t possibly be work related…” Yuki tapped her chin. “Did you poke yourself with the a needle by mistake again?’

“It was one time.”

“You’ve got that constipated look,” Yuki hummed and wished she had a camera to capture Choso’s protesting, open-mouthed expression. “Wait, wait, I’ve got it! Yuji?”

“Well…” Choso’s face softened, as it usually did whenever someone mentioned his younger brother. It was usually followed by a long winded ramble about whatever Yuji had been doing yesterday, accompanied by aggressively showing photos and rhetorical questions. Yuki was sure this time he had something else to say so she stuck around, but if he was going to start she was going to exclaim that she had to go somewhere important or distract him with the ever trusty “have you put up the new tat designs yet?”.

“You remember his friend, Megumi?”

“Gojo’s kid? Yeah, I remember him; porcupine hair, grumpy face, about yea high?”

“That’s the one. Anyways, he and his sister - Tsumiki, I think - took up ice skating recently.”

“Rich people thing, but what does this have to do with Yuji?”

“Now Yuji wants to learn to skate as well.” Choso awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

Yuki raised her eyebrows. “If it’s about money I keep telling you you can take all the tips-”

“No, it’ll be unfair if we don’t split!” Noble as always was Choso. Sigh. “Money’s not the problem. Gojo’s happy to sponsor and all I have to do is send him off to the rink anyway…”

“So what IS the problem?” Yuki prodded.

“…I tried to go with him yesterday.” Choso groaned and put his head into his hands. “I don’t know how to skate. At all.”

“You can learn, it can’t be that bad.”

“It was. I fell down about thirty times, Yuji counted. I can’t believe even Megumi is doing better than me.” Choso’s face turned wistful. “Yuji said it’s okay if I didn’t go with him next time, but I do, you know?”

Yuki, unfortunately, did know. Choso was THAT dream brother, the one who enthusiastically got into everything you did. The one who never, ever missed a single important competition, performance or playdate in your life. The one who did his absolute best to never embarrass you (obviously he did sometimes, but only because he was so proud of Yuji). The one who if you said you wanted the moon to be hung in your bedroom, he’ll hang the moon in your bedroom.

No surprise he would want to try and bond with Yuji with his latest hyper-fixation.

No surprise either he’d worry that he’d be making Yuji embarrassed that his big brother was such a klutz in the ice rink.

“It’ll be cool to skate together,” Choso finished hopefully.

Briefly Yuki flashed back to the time Yuji wanted tattoos like his elder brother and she had to talk him out of actually considering giving Yuji real, permanent tats, compromising with those tacky but washable ones.

“But even the staff there couldn’t help me.”

Now, the imaginary commentator would bellow, may we be proud to present, Yuki Tsukumo here to save the day!

Yuki smirked and slung a hand over his shoulders, a grin too wide to not be sneaky. “Don’t worry, Kamo! Big Sis Yuki’s got your back - I know someone who’ll be more than happy to help you if I pull in a couple of favors!”

“Really?” Predictably Choso brightened considerably. “Woah, thanks-”

“But first.” Yuki pushed him away to loom over him at arms length, eyes narrowed, assessing. “You haven’t answered me. What’s your type?”

***

“Hi Yuji.”

“Megumi! Guess what! Choso’s going to be skating today!” Yuji nimbly jumped inside the car, practically vibrating with excitement as he plopped down next to Megumi.

“With us?” The dark-haired boy’s usual frown deepened slightly. “Doesn’t he keep falling though?”

Yuji smiles wide enough for everyone to see his missing tooth. “I know! It’s so funny! But-” he motioned for Megumi to come closer, cupping his hand to his mouth in a conspiratorial whisper. “Someone else’s coming to give him lessons. Yuki-san told me so!”

“Who? Choso only has two friends and none of them know how to skate.” If Mahito, the creepy blue-haired man that the older brother sometimes hung out with did know how to ice skate…well, neither of them knew, mostly due to the fact he was too creepy to talk to despite his outwardly friendly appearance.

“You only have one friend as well, Megumi, and that’s me,” Yuji said bluntly, blissfully oblivious to Megumi’s disgruntled attitude at that statement. “I don’t know who it is but he’ll be coming soon with them to skate! That’ll be so cool if Choso made a new friend!”

Megumi flashed back to the time Yuji attempted to have the grocery store cashier “befriend” Choso, namely by having the both of them go find him when he disappeared somewhere in the freezer aisle. It did not end well but apparently his myopic friend didn’t think so. “Whatever you’d like to think.”

“Aw, Megumi, play nice! I’m sure it’ll be sooo cool if Choso made a new friend!” Up front in the passenger seat Gojo cackled, long legs awkwardly propped up on the dash. “Heavens knows he needs some. He can’t keep babysitting you, Tsumiki, Nanako, Mimiko and Yuji and call you guys his friends.”

“Why not? I’m not his friend?” Yuji looks horrified.

“Technically you’re his brother - ow!”

Geto, the exhausted-running-on-only-caffeine driver, retracts the hand he used to rap Gojo’s head with. “Don’t act so energetic when you did nothing to help me send off all the kids.”

“Hey! I helped Tsumiki get her bag and made the twins put on jackets and literally everything else you told me to do!”

“You forgot to pack my gloves,” Megumi said flatly.

“I didn’t see you driving Tsumiki to her book club or volunteering to help at Nanako’s photography club event or arranging time for Mimiko’s ballet recital or helping get their snacks ready or go wash the dishes in the sink from breakfast, which not only did I tell you to do but it’s your turn.”

“Suguru, you really wound me.” Gojo pretended to choke on tears.

Yuji burst out laughing. “Woah, Gojo-san is really useless!”

“Is that any way to treat the man who assisted in opening your brother’s tattoo parlor, young man?”

“Geto made you,” Megumi said again.

“I’m not listening to a snot-nosed brat who can’t even tie the laces to his skates,” Gojo declared.

Geto steered the car into the drop-off point, clearing his throat to be heard as he unlocked the doors. “He’s your kid, Satoru. Anyways, kiddos, I’ll be dropping you both here. Be good, don’t do anything Gojo would and Megumi better be there when I come to pick him both up. If Choso’s taking you both out to eat though, let me know or tell him to give me a call.”

“Noted with thanks.” Megumi exited the car swiftly, but not before gesturing rudely at his guardian.

“Now where did he learn that, I wonder?” Geto muttered, side eyeing the passenger princess. Gojo ignored him.

“Bye Geto-san! Bye Gojo-san! See you guys later!” Yuji’s hand waves wildly as he hops off.

Gojo rolls down the window to catcall one more time, pushing down his sunglasses. “Hey, kid, hope you’re ready to get a new sibling~”

“What?”

“Sibling-in-law,” Geto corrected, and they drove off.

***

Yuki had told him some basic facts about you. Your name, your age, your job, for instance.

She completely neglected to mention how amazing you looked.

Choso was glad he had decided to throw in a little more effort into his wardrobe today, but he was still anxiously tugging at the collar of his black hoodie. Thankfully his hair was down as well today to hide his ears, which he had no doubt where even more pink than Yuji’s hair.

Because man oh man were you drop-dead gorgeous.

What you were wearing only enhanced what Choso was convinced was godly beauty. And damn, the way you walked with utter confidence as you approached him outside the rink, your smile brighter than the midday sun and and and - crap he can’t remember anything he could call bright now that he’s seen your smile. You’re going to put him in cardiac arrest or at the very least short circuit his brain when you walk right up and start talking in that sweet, smooth voice of yours.

What was his favorite type of music? He’d absolutely say your voice now.

“Hi! You’re Choso right?” You cover your mouth as you shyly laugh. Why’d you do that? Choso wants to see it. “Yuki told me to look for a tall guy with longish hair and a tattooed face who stands there like he got off at the wrong train station.”

Play it cool, play it cool. And because the people he mainly hangs out with are kids he says, “Yeah I’m Choso. I like your shoes.”

“Really?” You glance down and laugh again. “Oh, um, thanks, I guess.”

He kicks himself internally.

“So, Yuki said you wanted to learn how to skate to impress your brother?”

“Uh, yeah.” Choso nods. At least that didn’t sound too weird. “He picked up skating recently and I just think it’ll be nice if we could do it together, because all I can do right now is, you know, sit at the sidelines since…I’m really bad at skating.”

“It’s fine!” You said enthusiastically. “It takes a couple tries to get the hang of it, but I’m pretty hopeful I’ll get you skating by yourself in one lesson - um, not to sound arrogant. It’s pretty sweet you want to learn skating just for your brother, heh; you must really look up to him.”

“I do.” Yuji made friends so effortlessly and he was amazing at any sport he tried his hand at. Yuki could laugh at him all she liked but his opinion was his opinion. Choso shuffled his feet. “I’ll be really grateful if you can. I’ll even pay-”

“No, no, this is completely free, Choso! Don’t worry, it’s all on a favor to Yuki anyway, so if anybody pays, it’s her,” You joke, waving a hand, gratified to see him crack a nervous grin. “So…” You plodded over to the rink, so steady atop the blades of the skates. Choso takes a little while longer, wobbling uncertainly, but he thanks his lucky stars he managed to cross over without tripping like last time.

“Which one’s your brother?”

Choso proudly pointed at the kid with the fluffiest pink hair you’ve ever seen chasing his spiky-haired, brooding counterpart around the ice with the skill of an Olympics professional. “That one.”

“Oh my god.”

Choso panics when your hand slaps over your mouth and your eyes screw up closed. You sounded like you were holding back some really odd noises as well. Did he do something wrong? Oh no. “Are you okay? Are you cold or-”

“He’s a little silly.” Yuki leans across the table, with a sly look. “I’m sure he’s got a brother complex, actually. Don’t mind him if he gets really excited if you mention Yuji.”

“No, no, Yuki didn’t tell me you were this cute!”

“I-” Choso feels his face heat up like an oven and his mouth dries. “Um.”

You grab his hand and yank him into the rink. “Come on, we’ll get you skating in no time!”

***

Truly you meant what you said. Yuki didn’t tell you he was THIS cute and you were going to put her out of whack for it.

You had originally regretted bemoaning your fate of being single for so long already when you had met up with the blonde a week ago, because Yuki being Yuki she was going to grill you for a very detailed description of your type just so she could set you up with someone on a blind date. What a wicked friend - somehow she managed to set you up on one anyway, but you were going to let it slide on the fact that 1. he was really, really cute (not just in looks; so rare are grown men who want to do these things just for their little brother!) and 2. Yuki was giving you a chance to show off your stomping ground and potentially impress HIM, something you weren’t going to throw away to get back at her.

Stay calm, stay calm, you chanted to yourself as you led him out to the rink. Oh god he was so cute and anxious gingerly moving like a newborn giraffe it made you want to- Focus. Seriously.

“Try and skate, I want to see how well you can do,” you said in what you hope was a normal, level tone of voice and not a representation of how you feel when he grabbed your arm to steady himself.

“Um…I’m scared I’ll trip and take you down with me,” Choso confessed, tightening his grip just slightly (it sent you reeling). “I accidentally tripped up Yuji’s friend’s dad once.”

“It’s fine! It’ll take more than some ice to hurt me,” You assure him cheekily. “Go on, try. I’ll do my best to catch you if I fall!”

“Alright, if you say so…”

You glided closer to where he sat on his bum. “I mean, at least you managed a couple meters.”

“I did a split,” Choso groans.

“You’re quite the gymnast,” you agree and offer your hand to help him out. He catches your eye and it’s all over.

“OH MY GOD! I’M - S-SORRY, IT - IT WAS JUST - JUST SO - JUST SO FUNNY - I CAN’T - I SHOULDN’T - I SHOULDN’T BE LAUGHING BUT - OH MY GOD - YOUR FACE - “

“Stop! It’s not that funny!” Choso buries his face into his hands, pulling up the hood of his jacket. But eventually he succumbs to the humor of the situation as well.

The two of you garnered quite a number of stares as you both doubled over and laughed until you swore you needed stitches for your sides now. You both glance up, just for a moment and maybe sparks flew if Choso hadn’t lost his balance and would’ve face-planted into the ice if you hadn’t grabbed him in time.

Now you both were in a…questionable position, to say the least. He was half leaning on you, head smooshed against your side as you tried to maneuver him back to standing with suddenly stiff hands, like two waltz partners when one was dipping the other. Your heart was pounding and you wondered if he could hear it. His face was burning red; he prayed you couldn’t see it. Two pairs of eyes locked.

“Um. So.” You broke the silence first.

Choso hurriedly pushed himself away, waving his hands frantically. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It was a total accident!”

Then the laughter explodes out again.

The commotion seemed to have gotten the attention of Choso’s brother and his friend as well. When you finally straightened, wiping at your streaming eyes, you came face-to-face with two gleaming brown ones as the boy grabs your hand in a tight handshake. “Hi! I’m Yuji! You must be Choso’s new friend and the one teaching him to skate?”

If Yuji wasn’t on ice you’d bet he’d be jumping up and down from glee. “I can’t wait to skate with him! He’s so bad at it he can barely take a step without slipping!”

“Yuji!” Choso can’t believe it. His beloved brother. Betraying him. Exposing him.

“Yeah, last time he tripped up Gojo,” Megumi adds. Choso could cry. Instead he puts a hand on their shoulders (he can’t bend down without falling/being unable to get up again if he’s not holding something) and leans close.

“Taiyaki if you guys don’t mention this, please.”

Yuji blinks and nods seriously, before turning back to a bewildered but entertained you. “My bad! Choso’s really good at skating! He’s never fallen down before!”

Not like that, Yuji. Choso wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. Since when were little kids this silly?

“Let’s go back to skating, Yuji. “ At least one of them feels bad for him. Megumi skates off, beckoning for his friend to follow. “We’ll leave the lovebirds to skate themselves.”

“Megumi!” Choso gasps. He took it back. All kids were merciless.

You seem more amused though, giggling. “Come on, they’re right. I said I’ll get you skating by today and skating you will be by today!”

“Alright!”

He couldn’t help but beam back. You had that effect. Addicting and contagious. Anything but detrimental though.

“Okay, let’s try that again, but this time I’ll be right behind you, so grab me if need be.”

Choso nodded. “Got it.”

You watched carefully as the man slowly struggles to skate a little distance. He nearly falls, but steadies himself quickly. After a while it’s easy to spot the problem, so you reluctantly pull yourself away from admiring his form, however shaky.

“Wait, wait, hold up here.” You skated in front of him a bit and pointed down. “Skating isn’t walking. Try imagining a scooter or a skateboard, where one foot remains unmoving while the other propels you forward. It’s not really an accurate way to skate but it worked for me on starting out.”

Choso tried not to get distracted by the smell of you and your clothes, concentrating on his feet. Think about other things, not the extremely good-looking person in front of you. Other things - don’t fall - other things…

He flashed back to the time he tried to teach Yuji to use a skateboard and fell into a ditch. Um, probably explained why he was so bad at skating.

“Hey, I’m doing it!” Choso excitedly let go of your arm and pushed himself forward a little more. “I’m doing it! I’m skating - oh woah - never mind - ouch.”

“Well, almost!” You cheered, clapping your hands and mimicking confetti falling as you skated over to help him up. “You did it! Now we just gonna work on your falling problem - I think it’s because you’re trying to go faster than you can right now.”

“It’s progress,” Choso says hopefully. He tries to get up.

“No, don’t get up like that, you’re gonna fall right down again. Put up one foot like you’re kneeling and use it to push yourself up.”

And so it went on, you directing instructions, tips and corrections to Choso while he did his best to follow them, occasionally sending your heart fluttering and your stomach twisting every time he grabbed your hand to steady himself. It was like your hands were molded to fit each other perfectly, you thought giddily, then shut off that train of thought. No! You both had just met! You were just here on a favor to Yuki! Nothing more!

“Lean forward a little more - wait, no, not that much, don’t fall for me again, haha.”

“Just relax your hands, don’t keep flailing them.”

“Come on! Go, go, go, you got this! No! Don’t look back! Pretend I’m in front of you!”

But still, you couldn’t help but flush pink at the jubilant grin decorating his face as he zipped back to you, hyped over his newfound achievement.

“I did it! I skated a whole round!”

“I know you did, congratu- oof!”

He tackled you in a tight hug, crushing your arms and your head underneath his chin but you didn’t mind. Choso was warm, awfully so after you both had spent so much time in the freezing rink, but maybe that was just his personality. You melted, and it was like gluing a cracked vase back together again - a perfect fit.

Then Choso froze and let go, pushing back. “I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have done that, I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, no worries, don’t sweat it!” You tried for a smile, even though the sudden loss of his hold left something aching in you.

He smiled again and you decided to be bold.

You spread your arms. “Can I get another one, maybe? Just to celebrate.”

***

“So, it’s just you and Yuji right now?” You took a lick of your ice cream, eyes never leaving Choso’s face. He was enjoying his own cone, although his gaze was trained on the two kids running up in front. “Man, that must’ve been rough.”

“Well, not too bad.” Choso wiped a smudge of chocolate off the corner of his lip. He didn’t quite get it, so he tried to use his tongue to lick it off. You snorted at his expression. “We’ve got an uncle - my dad’s brother - Sukuna, he’s not around much but he sends us money so financially, we’re okay. He’s a pretty busy, bigshot businessman anyway.”

“THE Ryomen Sukuna?” Your mouth fell open as you pictured the scowling, towering, tattooed man you had seen in newspapers. “Oh, wow, you just keep getting even more interesting, Choso.”

He shrugged, awkwardly smiling at the compliment. “Heh, not really. I didn’t even know we were related until like after our grandfather died. Then he showed up. He’s like the family black sheep or something, but Sukuna’s pretty okay.”

After Yuji and Megumi had finally gotten bored of the rink they had ran up to the two of you and immediately pestered Choso (mostly Yuji, Megumi just sort of tagged along) to get them food because they were going to die from hunger apparently. Choso had turned to you, with that eager puppy dog look and asked if you wanted to stay, ice cream would be his treat? Who were you to turn him down?

So that’s how you all ended up in front of the toy store now, as Yuji dragged Megumi inside while you and Choso just sort of lingered around the front, poking through the products, getting to know each other better and wistfully remarking on the joys of lost childhood.

(He was such a gentleman - offering to throw the cup your ice cream was in for you, opening the door and even - gasp - helping you remove the straps from your skates.)

“Pretty okay? He looks terrifying from his pictures,” you laugh. “I guess there’s a reason they call his business Malevolent Shrine though.”

“Don’t even get me started on-”

“Choso! Choso! Check these out!”

The two younger boys burst through the racks, Yuji grinning and Megumi not quite scowling as they held up two matching wolf plushies, one white and the other black. The Divine Dogs line of toys, if you remembered correctly. They were pretty cute, you had to admit.

“Oh hey, you two are back.” Choso took a quick look at the plushies and raised his eyebrows. “Do you want them or something?”

“Nope! I think you should get them!”

You nearly spat.

“…what? And…why?”

“So you can match with my new sibling?”

“Sibling?!” Poor Choso looks confused.

“Sibling-in-law,” Megumi corrects blankly, and points at you.

At once the two of you suddenly found the floor really interesting. My, my, who knew the cracks in the tiles would make such beautiful patterns. Hmm, a speck on your shoe as well.

“But I think that's for after marriage,” Megumi continues like absolutely nothing happened.

Yuji frowns, then lights up again before shoving the plushies towards Choso. “Then you gotta marry them quick, Choso, before anyone else does! Maybe you could get matching tattoos or something, after the plushies! You guys were so cute skating around together, like a real coo-ple!”

“Couple,” Megumi corrected.

“We’re not-!”

“Um, what-?”

“Hey, can I be best man at the wedding?” Yuji waved the plushy at your face.

Choso wanted the floor to swallow him up. You decide to save him and yourself.

“…it’s too early for marriage,” You begin before Choso’s panic instincts kick in.

“I’m so sorry! I apologize on their behalf, it must make you uncomfortable! Yuji, Megumi, don’t ever say that, we just met and we’re just hanging out like friends-”

“Hey, let me finish!” You lightly dig your elbow into his side, the corner of your lip tugging up. “It’s too early for marriage but I wouldn’t say no to a date, if you asked.”

Choso bough the plushies after he finished fainting.

[mstormcloud]

More fankids!! Both because they are genuinely fun to make and give lore to but also because I made Mirai and then wanted to make sure she had friends!

Aster is designed by my friend Duetland!! (The last art is by them!!) They aren’t on tumblr but you can find him on Instagram @duetland :)

Lore for each of them under the cut! (LONG POST WARNING!!!!)

Gold and Aster:

Shadow and Sonics kids. They’re twins (with Aster being older). Both were babysat by Tails a lot and ended up picking up a lot of stuff from him as well as their parents. Gold became more responsible and significantly more polite (far more than either of his parents lmao) meanwhile Aster became interested in robotics. Specifically those related to space like rockets or planet rovers.

When the two were born there was immediate concern about their power imbalance. Aster was born with no powers at all, meanwhile Gold’s chaos energy was so high Shadow feared he would burn himself up unless something was done. Due to them being twins, it essentially ended up where instead of two moderately powerful hedgehogs - Gold got enough power for two while Aster has none. This leads Aster to resent Gold, less because she actually wants superpowers but more because Sonic and Shadow are always fussing over Gold (to make sure his powers aren’t harming him) and she feels like her parents don’t care for her. Causing her to push them out even more. She listens to Shadow more than Sonic, but they don’t end up talking through all this properly until Espio gets involved since unlike Sonic and Shadow who had powers all their lives - Espio had to teach himself his abilities and is able to empathize with Aster more.

3. Rhine

Rouge and Knuckles’ child. I’ve thought about her way less WHOOPS but!! Despite not being an echidna he looks up to his father a lot and promises to be the best guardian of the master emerald he can possibly be. Has a habit of just picking up shiny things like a magpie and will turn them into jewelry. Is blunt and gullible like her father but likes thinking things through before she moves. Uses the shovel claws more as weapons than actual shovels - he’s a bit of a neat freak.

Mirai and Gummy:

Mirais story is on my previous post! Not much has been added since then other than that I’ve decided she’s a bit of a troublemaker and very energetic, sarcastic, silly and kinda stupid. As for Gummy he’s about 7 years younger than Mirai, and I haven’t quite figured out what he’d be interested in yet haha

Eli and Anchor:

These two are half siblings! Eli’s parents are Amy and Metal. While investigating the ruins of a disaster, Amy and Metal find a child who who had been incredibly injured. They happen to be closer to Eggmans new hideout (where he has retired and is just kinda pouting by himself forever) than anywhere else - the two break in and force Eggman to help them save the child. Since the current Metal is Amy’s size, there were several smaller models for when he was “younger” - Eggman uses one of these scrapped smaller Metals to give the child cybernetic parts and saves their life. Amy and Metal then take the child back to their house and raise it as their own, with Eggman forcing them to bring Eli over frequently so he can see his grandchild.

Anchor is the child of Blaze and Amy! I’m just letting Amy be poly I think she has a lot of love in her heart and now she has two wifes. Anchor lives the Sol kingdom, and takes after her aunt Marine quite a bit with her love for adventure and especially sailing! When she was young, much like Blaze, she was brought before the Sol emeralds and blessed with a power. I feel like she’d be able to control / harness winds rather than fire though - to help with her sailing.

If you read all of this - thanks!! You didn’t have to but it was very nice of you!

[kimbapchan]

Hihi!! I just wanna start off by saying I. LOVE. The designs for your roleswap. You have given me many of The Thoughts. One thing I’m a bit curious about: where exactly does Quan Yizhen stand here? You’d expect him to remain a Heavenly Official, but Yin Yu being in Ling Wen’s spot raises questions.

**SPOILERS AHEAD. RUN NOW FOR ALL YE WHOM STILL READ**

With The Brocade Immortal, It’s likely Ling Wen was no longer the one to ‘create’ the Brocade Immortal, so perhaps that ‘honor’ falls to Yin Yu? But then that begs the question of who is the Brocade Immoral in that case? Would it still be the same person as the main novel or would if be someone else? Who could that someone else be? If my initial gut feeling is right then Quan Yizhen being the Brocade Immortal would be neat. Yin Yu feeling guilty for the loss and trying to bring Quan Yizhen back. (If you already mentioned QYZ at some point… whoops..?)

Also pretty curious about the dynamic between the Ghost Kings (well, the Calamities). We can suspect that Xie Lian, Shi Qingxuan and perhaps Mei Nianqing (if MNQ is present) are all on tolerable terms with each other, which isolates Lang Qianqiu, especially since it’s still incredibly likely that Xie Lian was still his teacher assuming Xie Lian wouldn’t continue on his warpath (this is also assuming Xie Lian remains the Crown Prince. But it seems likely because Mei Nianqing would likely have a certain title for Hua Cheng like cannon Jun Wu had given cannon Xie Lian. Plus: The increasing likelihood of Feng Xin and Mu Qing being ghosts supports the theory because if they both *died* rather than abandoning Xie Lian, I don’t think he would’ve held back…

But this is all just a theory! An AU-I-Read-Too-Far-Into Theory!

~ MC Anon (you don’t need to tag it… I just leave a little signature so that I REMEMBER that I was the one who wrote the ask, lol)

I really REALLY love your theories! thankyou for sharing them with me! I already have a comic drafted with Quan Yizhen actually! He is definitely one of my favorite characters in canon story. He reminds me of a very mellow Binghe hehe. I look forward to showing you guys his design in the AU! <3

Oh and yes, of course I would love to show the calamities/ghost kings interact. We haven't seen much of it yet since every comic I've done so far are sort of on Hua Cheng's POV. I'll hopefully make a comic in the future with Xie Lian's POV!

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 3: Baking halloween treats - Multi!Muse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multi!muse  x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not that I could think of, kind of whoesome

Type: Blurb

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Baking is always fun no?

Notes: I don’t think I’ve messed anything up yet. Whoop whoop lets go

Jason Voorhees: Kind of wholesome with Jason, he absolutely loves when you bake, he could smell it from outside the cabin and it’s usually what lures him back home to you. His favorites would be apple pie, sometimes you’d make little designs with the crust, which would be his favorite part, feeling flustered when he’d see little cut outs of hearts plastered across the baked crust. This would be his favorite desert, sometimes you’d have to smack his hand out of the pan telling him you had to eat first before desert, only letting him have a bite before dinner on his birthday.

Michael Myers: He wouldn’t think much of it, he’s not too big on baked goods, no matter what it is, if it’s cupcakes, cake, whatever it is, he doesn’t care for it, but chocolate is Michaels kryptonite. He’d help you decorate the cakes and cookies you’d bake, usually just plastered a ton of red frosting across the desert. “Close enough” You’d think to yourself, simply happy that Michael is participating.. 

Tiffany Valentine: Completely enamored with it, loves everything to do with it. She could never do it right, no matter the different recipes or instruction manuals. Tiffany was still more than excited to participate, drawing little bats on the cookies with black frosting, making little ghosts on the cupcakes with black and white frosting. Her favorite part would be adding the sprinkles. Lots of laughing and giggling, this is just a wholesome moment for her and she feels overwhelmingly lucky that at least one of you can bake.

Billy Loomis: He wants no part of it, never was a baker and he sure as hell isn’t going to start today. Billy will stand in the kitchen, watching you do all the hard work, telling you “well I never asked you to make us any cupcakes babe” Dipping a finger into the icing and licking it off, Billy is such a pain in the ass for you, but he looked so cute as he was a pain. Watching you mix the ingredients, read the book and follow it as you pleased. Not even the decorating did Billy want to get involved in, hopefully you know how to do most of it on your own.

Stu Macher: Completely hands on “What do we do next” Will for sure overbake the cookies or brownies. He kind of clumsily follows what you say, sometimes adding too much or not enough. It’s like cooking with an actual five year old. At some point you just realize, maybe the actual baking process would just enlist you to do the actual work and just have Stu give you the utensils. Come decorating, he would let loose and do whatever he wants and surely Stu does get very creative with his Halloween designs.

Patrick Bateman: Doesn’t care for any sweets, if anything he despises them. He’s never liked anything sweet, Patrick thinks it’s bad for his body and says his taste buds refuses them. He doesn’t even like the smell, but if you insist he’d let you, just as long as you clean up after and leave the kitchen from smelling like a bakery. Patrick does like the designs you make though, he’d look at them through the container, telling you that you did a good job.

Leatherface: LOVES baking time, never really had any sweets or chocolate growing up. Bubba only tried it a few times in his childhood and he could never forget the taste, sometimes it’d fade away into his bittersweet memories but your at home bakery brings it right back. He is so involved in your activities, such a hands on s/o. Bubba would try anything and everything that you’d make, he’d mix the batter while you prep the oven, following every instruction you give him to a T. Not to mention his favorite part and everyone’s, the decorating. He’d make all sorts of creations, often running out of space in his cupcake, sometimes getting frustrated that it’s not coming out the way he wanted. Rest assured, all of it is still edible.

Harley Quinn: Also loves baking time, she knows how to make the best brownies, warm with chewy chocolate chips. She’d sit on the table crisscross while she mixes the batter, swiping a few tastes of the cookie dough if there’s any beforehand. Lots of silly faces and unfortunately, lots of messes. Somehow it would turn into a mini food fight as well, Harley’s childish at times, what can I say you bring out the best in her. She’s quite the artist too when it comes to decorating, always making the best ghosts and bats across the plain cookies. Harley takes baking quite seriously at times and will definitely be up to a contest to who could make the best most creative creation.

Poison Ivy: Not a huge fan of baking, but would enjoy some dark chocolate brownies every now and then. She would be interested in decorating your creations though, she finds it therapeutic. There would be times though, where you’d get the recipe wrong, or overcook it and Pamela would have to step in. You’d watch her as she would gracefully blend the mixtures and let them sink across the baking pan. She’d kiss your forehead, not minding the extra work. It’s actually kind of comforting. Pamela’s favorite creation of course, would be the pumpkin shaped cookie.

Bruce Wayne: Surprisingly loves it, it’s one of the things that makes him feel like his house is finally a home with you. He’d walk in on you early, smelling the sweet scent of cookies, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving you a tender kiss on your cheek. Bruce is more than happy with whatever you make, more in love with you by the second. Believe it or not he’s not the best at decorating the cupcakes or cookies, not when the designs at least but it’s the thought that counts.

Jason Todd: Kind of similar to Bruce, seeing you do any kind of housework around the house melts his heart. While baking isn’t particularly “housework” the fact that you would try to surprise him with Halloween cookies after a mission means the world to him. He couldn’t keep his hands off you, to the point where he’d be in the way, happily watching you get flustered and then annoyed. Lots of kisses, on your nose, neck and forehead.

Billy Hargrove: He does not know what to do at all and in all honesty, he won’t admit it but he is kind of scared of ruining anything. Billy loves you and he knows how much love you put into your cooking/baking, how time consuming it could be and the last thing he would want to do is ruin it for you. Sometimes it could come off like he’s uninterested and it’ll leave you in blues, but once you talk about it. Billy is more than happy to help you clean after, keep you company as you did all the baking. Not to mention, he’d be the best taste tester.

Steve Harrington: He’s actually super into it, he’s the first one up to take to you to the store to get all the baking supplies, carrying the basket for you and watching you pick the ingredients, making decisions with you. I’ll take the liberty to say Steve would be one of the most involved on this list to actually make any sort of Halloween goodies with you. There would be a few times you’d forget a certain item, or completely undermeasure what you bought and he wouldn’t mind going back for you to get it. He’d make little weird aliens and odd monsters with icing on the bare breads that would come out of the oven, taking pictures of them next to yours and keeping them in a little booklet of you both.

Steve Rogers: Kind of enamored with the wholesome idea of you baking for Halloween instead of giving out so much candy or buying the cupcakes at the store. He’s such a hands on boyfriend and it shows. Little did you know he has a few tricks up his sleeve as well, teaching you how to keep the cookies from overcooking, or the brownies from sticking onto the pan. Cute little kisses every now and then while your creation bakes. He’d let you take the lead in decorating, he much rather watch you be excited about the fun part, he cherishes these moments more than anything. Not to mention, he’d help you bring your goodies to the team “Avengers, Y/N took the liberty of making you all a treat, for all your hard work this week.” He’d let you give them out as he’d hold the basket before them, staring to you proudly.

Bucky Barnes: Kind of like Steve, he’d gladly participate in whatever you wanted to do for Halloween. Helping you with the mixing, read the recipe book, pick out the products at the store. Bucky would sit you on the island of the kitchen while he’d mix the now-pasty dough. Lots of small kisses, also in love with the idea of doing something so wholesome that reminded him of his good times. He’d sometimes tell you stories about his family and what they would do, what Halloween was like back in the day. Not too big on decorating, he rather just add the faces onto the cookies if you insisted on him participating.

Wanda Maximoff: This is her specialty, it would be therapeutic for her, so if you mention you wanted to bake something for the team, she is all up for it. Your dining room table would be littered with different fall themed snacks and flavors, all ready to be decorated and either eaten or sent away for others to enjoy. Wanda would love to bake a little bit of everything with you, involving herself in the decorating as well. Everything would look straight out of a professional bakery, some would even offer to buy them off of you, but instead you’d give them away. To anyone who wanted or seemed like they needed something sweet. Needless to say, this would be one of her favorite Halloween activities with you.

Loki Laufeyson: At first he doesn’t seem so interested, but after he sees you’re determined to make at least a dozen cookies and a dozen brownies, all fresh, warm and full of love for the team, he seems interested. Loki would watch you from afar, seeing you struggle with mixing the batter, getting tired and taking small breaks between. Of course this would be Loki’s best opportunity to ascend from the shadows towards you. “Let me have it dear.” He’d instruct as you surrendered the bowl to him in defeat. A few more minutes and you would’ve added literal tears into the mixture. Though he doesn’t want to admit it, Loki does enjoy these silly little activities with you.

Cloud Strife: King of “no idea what I’m doing” But always tries to have a good attitude about it. He helps you with all the heavy stuff, or more like the physical part of this activity. But then literally just waits for your next command, not really knowing what to do after. While everything waits in the oven, Cloud kind of just stands there waiting for it to inflate before his eyes, crushing down on a hard blush when you’d try to kiss his cheeks whispering small “Thank you’s” and other little praises. He’d help you give them out on Halloween night, keeping an emotionless expression, mostly kind of humiliated, but not enough to hide from it. Whatever makes you happy.

Aerith Gainsborough: LOVES this idea, she’s super excited and the minute you mention it, Aerith is grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you to get the ingredients. She wants the cookies in her hands now. Her favorite part its watching the cookies inflate in the over and decorating them with cute little ghost figures and pumpkins. She’d get icing on your cheek and nose periodically, laughing away as you scrunch your nose. Aerith would love to have you try what she’s baking, asking for your opinion, if it’s too much, too little, or even trying to get you to guess what she added to this batch.

Sebastian Michaelis: Ok come on. He knows how to make everything and anything and if he doesn’t, he’ll learn. Sebastian would make more complicated dishes, showing off a little to much in competition to your simple brownies. That doesn’t mean he won’t teach you though, maybe then you’d be able to help him when the young master would want a treat. Sebastian wouldn’t condemn you to do his job anyway, but if you wanted to have a little bit of wholesome fun on Halloween, Sebastian would be the best to go to in this area. Your baked goods would be created to perfection.

Spencer Reid: Sooo messy, the kitchen is a mess, there’s batter on the floor, the spoon must’ve fell like three times. Spencer has icing in his hair, no idea how, you haven’t even opened the darn thing yet, you have food coloring all over your fingertips and there’s so much laughter coming from both of you. “Wait no it says two tablespoons Spence, not teaspoons” Then a groan would come out of Spencer as he lets the bowl splat back down onto the counter. A snort would come out of you to see his cute frustration. “Come on genius, Halloween’s tomorrow and we have to get these out for the team, let’s hustle. Go! go! go!” You’d scold him into mixing faster to keep up with you.

[possum-quesadilla]

Whoop. Oops. I got too excited to write the next chapter…

Chapter 5 of Lonely Remnants, “Now you remember where you came from, Now you remember where you’re going, You’ve got to keep it flowing” is here!

I promise I’ll work on the next chapter of Time’s Arrow after this besties.

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING. THIS CHAPTER IS PARTICULARLY ROUGH.

Here are the extras!

- The lyrics for this chapter’s title are from “Spiral of Ants” by Lemon Demon! I’m sure the meaning is obvious, especially by the end of the chapter. :)

- “The lights were off within, and she could hear a faint, familiar humming resounding throughout.” - The Shoggoth doesn’t need to turn the lights on because it can see in the dark better than in the light.

- “It had changed into some sort of D.A.R.E. hoodie that used to be Lawrence’s, the left sleeve having yet to be tied off.” - I wonder why Lawrence has a D.A.R.E. hoodie?

- “She jolted in surprise when a tail swished anxiously behind the Shoggoth. It was long and thin, reaching down to his ankles, covered in black fur with a large tuft at the end.” - based on a medieval unicorn’s tail! Mostly for funsies with the design. And, y’know, thematic reasons. Like all the other features. ;)

- Car games - thank you to my mutuals in the discord server for the help picking them this time!! <33

- “ “What type of name would you like?” Barbara asked, glancing back at the demon. “Masculine? Feminine? Something ambiguous?” The demon blinked at her, furrowing his brows. “… huh?” ” - the Shoggoth has no concept of gender, hence why it uses it/its pronouns right now! (Eventually, it will shift to it/they.)

- “It seemed them pulling in past the sign that welcomed them to the town of ‘Hatchet Springs’ made something click in it’s mind.” - The name of the town is a mixture of two of my favorite fictional towns, both of which are thematically relevant! Hatchetfield from the Hatchetfield trilogy and Possum Springs from “Night in the Woods”.

- “ “… it looks so dorky.” The Shoggoth shrinked in on itself a bit, and the preteen held her hands up. “In a good way! I would totally not suspect you’re a demon. You fly under the radar.” ” - the Shoggoth really, really cares what Lydia things.

- “It kept insisting in a hissed whisper that someone was following them, but every time Lydia looked where the demon had indicated, there was nobody there.” - It wasn’t Juno! :)

- Collette - The last name has a specific thematic purpose beyond being a reference to Justin Collette!

- Thank you again to my homies for helping with the math on the poster!! Math is hard!!

- “Hair long and wild, unstyled and dyed with streaks of purple.” - Juno never taught him how to brush his hair or care for it, hence why it was wild here and when he first came to the haunted house. Emily and Charles taught him how to properly care for it!

- “Hhh- th-that explains the bits.” - The Shoggoth noticed a difference between the body and the way people referred to Lawrence, but just went along with it. It’s starting to understand what it all means here. (Imagine discovering transphobia for the first time…)

- “Lydia caught sight of dark green scales on his nose, glistening in the sunlight.” - Hmm! Weird. Perhaps thematic. (Definitely.)

- “Barbara and Adam exchanged a Look, and the Shoggoth let out a soft whimper.” - The Shoggoth understood the Look this time.

- “He ha-… has a heart condition.” - Adam was trying not to give away that Lawrence was dead, since it seemed like Juno didn’t know. Also, I will probably make a post about Lawrence’s first date with the Maitlands where he first brought up his heart condition!

- “Lydia strained to hear them, reaching up to adjust her hearing aid- ” - Hearing aids don’t actually work like that. You can’t just turn it up to hear better at a distance. Lydia was just a wee bit desperate and confused.

Tag list: @raineisinkless @c0zmo-writes @musical-fiend @katslitterbox

(Want to be tagged in future updates for CorpseJuice / LoopJuice? Let me know!)

[berrypass-de-murdler]

2 - 50 Killer at the Convocation

S E A S O N F I N A L E

...I'm the only person on tumblr who can't boop and it makes me sosad

I compLETELY forgot to say happy halloween and now it's too late WHOOPS

But I've got another scary murdler for y'all

Tiny Taupe was one of the first book2 characters I designed, and also one of my favorites because HELP

Poor thing was born without a head or arms and can only communicate through tap-dancing morse code. His life is miserable! Even Logico can't help but take pity on the creature... wait how does it hear and see- (I NEVER draw muscular characters but I don't think the drawing ended up too bad?? in my opinion-)

which murdler do you find the scariest in design? I think Dr. Crimson, Sister Lapis, and Philosopher Bone are up there

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

They are at the convocation. Logico is to give a speech, then finally reveal the Special Secret. He is shaking with nerves. Irratino puts a hand on his shoulder.

IRRATINO: Shh. Hey. You’re okay! LOGICO: Oh… all right…

And they step into the gigantic building. Poor Logico! He’s so small, and the scale isn’t helping his anxiety. 

WHITE: Deductive. You’re late. LOGICO: There… was an accident on the way here. WHITE: I don’t care the excuse, cupcake, I want to hear your speech.

Logico is even more scared when he looks at who else is at the table - there, in the flesh, is the Major Red! 

Logico is so terrified, but can’t look away. The soldier is every bit as terrifying as the legends described - he looks like he was hand-designed to kill. And yet, Logico can’t help but notice his face twitch with uncertainty.

AMARANTH: Deductive Logico!

He gives the little guy a kiss on the cheek, who is less than pleased. Gico makes a pouty expression.

AMARANTH: Do not be so worried, mon ami. You will be fantastic. I believe in you!

Logico sighs, and steps up to the rostrum. Irratino gives a big goofy thumbs-up. The smol detective takes a deep breath, and begins his speech.

LOGICO: Countries, of the- OH!! Are you kidding me?! WHITE: NEXT LOGICO: NO, there’s another MURDER.

Yep, there sure is - the supposed ‘head of the Convocation’ is lyin’ on the cold hard ground!

IRRATINO: At least you’ll have more time to prepare your speech? LOGICO: Please… not now. 

The presentation is delayed as everyone stares at Logico trying to find the (probably meaningless) answer.

AMARANTH: As ze Président, I brought an exclusive pin. LOGICO: …now you’re starting with the quips? AMARANTH: But I look adorable while doing so, non?~ 💕

Logico officially hates this man.

WHITE: By decree of the Old Drakonians- RED: By the revolution-

SERIOUSLY? Fucking MAJOR RED? But he doesn’t say that out loud, for fear of his life.

Irratino gets a call from High Alchemist Raven.

RAVEN: My concoctions have turned a particular shade, revealing a major clue. IRRATINO: What was the shade?? RAVEN: Red, doi. IRRATINO: Oh! It’s Red! … Logico, it’s Red!

Logico is gone. 

IRRATINO: LOGICO! LOGICO YOU GOTTA COME BACK QUICK, I SOLVED THE MURDER AND YOU GOTTA DO YOUR SPEECH!

Irratino discovers that Logico has not ‘gone’ to the bathroom. There is a blood stain where he was standing. Irratino’s face goes pale. And he just stares…

IRRATINO: He’s fine. Everything I believe is true.

Amaranth approaches him.

AMARANTH: Sir?... IRRATINO: It’s not even his blood. Look! It’s not even his blood. He’s fine.

Red slowly exits his seat. Irratino lunges for him! White has to hold him back.

IRRATINO: WHAT DID YOU DO?! WHAT DID YOU DO?! RED: I was… I was… IRRATINO: I’LL GET YOU! WHEN I GET YOU… YOU’LL BE SORRY!! LET GO! 

And the happy-go-lucky man continues to lose his mind. Is Logico okay? Is he alive? Is this his sick, sick way of finally getting revenge?

The end!

I AM OFFICIALLY HALFWAY THROUGH BOOK 2

let's celebrate with uh

OH YEAH

I FINALLY GET TO MAKE MAJOR RED'S OFFICIAL ARTWORK!!!

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[oh-shtars]

Would you look at that. It’s the little prince himself ^^ ✨✨✨

My mind got curious on his design and the urge to draw him won over me. Whoops-

I like to think he does some wood carving for fun and he gifts around the wooden figurines he makes to people. But he doesn’t think that this hobby is anything “grand” and is nothing compared to his parents who are basically known as heroes, so he shrugs it off when people compliment on his talents.

Rani “longs” for answers to what exactly he wants to be and what he wishes to do. He’s sick of everyone telling him that it’s up to him to find out himself. Idk, maybe he finds wishing to the stars stupid because they don’t even give a definite answer back anyway.

I guess he’s a “see-it-to-believe-it” kind of guy?? I have nothing permanent for him yet. 🤷 I do know I want it related to the meaning of his name. (“Longing”)

Anyways, like I said before, his clothes and overall colour is inspired by the concept art below on the left. (Also because I heard orange symbolised ‘balance and harmony’ which fits how he has general knowledge in a variety of different stuff.)

Oh, and have the doodle on the right above between @annymation’s KOW!Evangeline and RFTS!Rani. He’s showing her a wooden bird he had made. Not his best work buuuuut, I bet Lin thinks otherwise.

[sunnikos]

Day 1: Hurt/Comfort

Hello! I am participating in Bsd Rarepair Week 2024. I’m super excited! I’ve picked out the pairings myself, some I’ve read in fanfiction, and a couple I made up all on my own.

Day 1, whoop whoop! This one is a modern AU because I think that makes the most sense with the paring, the dynamic would be pretty different in canon methinks. Enjoy!

@bsd-rarepair-week-2024

Pairing: Oda x Yosano x Fyodor

Content Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Brief Nudity, Sexually Charged Scenes

Word Count: 1.7K

| Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 |

This is the healthiest relationship any of them have had. Fyodor still lies, Yosano still loses her temper, and Oda still endures. It is not unusual for Yosano and Fyodor to muse to themselves or each other how they don’t deserve him. Still, they won’t let him go. He is a wall of comfort. The teddy bear you cuddle after a nightmare. Or a bright star in the sky, glowing just hard enough to show you that you are not alone. Plus, the sex is fantastic.

Oda is not without his faults. Yosano and Fyodor realize this, of course. However, it doesn’t fully sink in. It doesn’t stick like syrup in their heads when they are ruminating. Oda will endure whatever you throw at him; he will calmly resolve as many conflicts as he comes across. Yet, there’s something to be said for his vulnerability. What do they really know about him? His emotions?

They know his values.

They know his dreams.

But they do not know his past. His anger. His misery.

After an argument between the two… self-proclaimed toxic partners of the relationship, Yosano spotted Oda, his head pressed against the crystal white tiled wall, showerhead sprinkling cool water over him, rinsing him of his burden. Resolving their conflicts must be taking its toll on the man.

Yosano removes layer after layer of clothing calmly.

Nakedness is a permitted intimacy, most nights anyway. Smoothing her soft hands over his shoulder and bicep, she says to him, “You deserve a break, baby.” an offering.

“Not tonight, Akiko.” He shakes his head.

She nods her head and rinses off before stepping out, “I’ll heat you up some udon?”

He considers, forehead pressed to the wall, eyes trailing side to side, “Okay.” he accepts.

Who cares if he spends 20 more minutes in the shower? Yosano is not known for being dull; heating the udon up when the pittering sounds of water down the drain stops is simply the sensible thing to do.

The udon is savory, it smells like an apology.

He takes the meal in the livingroom, at a coffee table marked with mug sized rings. They don’t know what it is about them—a full dining table, cluttered and unused for it’s designated purpose. Paperwork scattered in various spots on the furniture one should eat at, various blades and scalpels join this unwarrented mess.

The coffee table, their bedroom, the terrace. These are far more often the hosts of their meals.

Oda is cold. Udon is warm in his belly, but it does not warm his melancholy. Somehow, Yosano knows. The incomplete turn of her head is enough to call him over.

One could think him sauve, the way he coolly settles on his knees, and lays his pretty head on her lap. She can’t quite discern what’s behind his eyes as she runs her fingers through his hair, his gaze fixated on her.

Eye contact is a funny thing. Holding a stare turns into holding their soul.

His breath on her thighs—it’s hot. Tearing her eyes from him now seems wrong, unsettling even. He beholds her like a goddess, and she cannot let go of his mortality. They cannot pull away, there is a crevice left of composure, until gravity drags them closer. A head lifting from her thighs, hands sliding up them, rubbing small, electrifying circles. His gaze is boring into her as he spreads her legs enough to glide his torso between and bury his face into her stomach.

His hand burns into her senses as it snakes under her loose shirt and rests it, touching his fingers to her back and a thumb to her waist.

Circles.

Pressure.

Gentle.

Tender.

His other hand moved from her thigh to guide her hand to his lips, placing a heated kiss on the palm. The moment freezes, but the fire stays, fraying her nerves. Neither of them move. She’s still, thinking, waiting. His eyes are hooded, watching.

He drops her hand; she places her hands on his shoulders. The spell is broken, and they’re on each other like animals. He gets both hands on her waist and pulls her forward into his lap. Her lower back is pressing against the couch, and she does not care. Her fingers are in his hair, and his lips are on hers. The fire is lit, and they are pressing against each other every way they can. Eager mouth on hers, then down her jaw, her neck.

By morning, Fyodor is back from his shift. She wakes up to find he’d slithered himself between them. As Yosano took in the sight, her chest ached. Oda had to mediate countless disagreements; that hadn’t really meant anything at all. They were blown out of proportion by two people unwilling to compromise. Her temper, his ego. They both suck. But she loves him, and Oda. And she knows they feel the same.

Still, it wouldn’t be useless to react later, rather than in the moment. Their relationship is still a work in progress. Maybe all relationships are.

She kisses both of her partners heads, then begins her morning routine. Coffee and contemplation are not a bad combo, but she needs to get to work.

People die when Yosano is late.

She heads out the door with her partners in mind. It’s no good to be distracted in a hospital, so she gets the pondering out of the way before her shift.

Later, when she has a free moment at work, she sends a text to Fyodor.

Me: Mission report: Cheer Buba up

[Accept] or [Decline]

Lover: [Accept]

What’s going on with Oda?

Me: I think our arguments are draining him

Lover: I see. I’ll talk to him.

Me: And?

Lover: He will be reassured.

Me: You’re so goddamn ominous

Lover: Problem?

Me: No, save a kiss for me when I get home

Lover: Understood.

She turns her phone off and checks if she’s needed. When she sees that she isn’t, she sighs in relief. She then begins finding something to busy herself; there’s always something to do in a hospital.

Getting home is a breath of fresh air; there’s a heavy scent of something homemade. Shucking her shoes off takes no time, so she surveys the scene. Oda is cooking, of course, and Fyodor is reading on the couch, looking satisfied. Yosano sacks her stuff onto the coffee table and pops a squat at a nearby chair.

“You’re taking up the whole couch, you know.”

Fyodor raises an eyebrow at her, “That’s never stopped you before, Akiko.”

“I dunno, looks like your scrawny ass did a good job today.” Her eyes widen as a smirk graces her features, “Unless you want me to sit on you?”

“Tempting offer, I think I’ll decline this time.”

“Alright~” she has that smug look on her face.

Later, Oda enters the room with two bowls of hot soup in his hands. He sets them down in front of his partners, then returns with a bowl for himself and three pieces of bread.

“Not our usual meal, Sakunoske.” Fyodor muses.

“I know, it’s not as developed in flavor,” Oda says as he takes his seat. “but it’s good and hearty, which you could really use.” he sends a pointed look at his colder companion.

“Wow, not even trying to hide how you’re fattening me up?”

Yosano smiles playfully, “You couldn’t get fat if you tried.”

“I don’t appreciate you initiating a challenge to me, Akiko.” Fyodor shakes his head, trying to keep his expression neutral.

“Why? You gonna take the bait?”

Oda chuckles at their antics, “Why are you two so competitive?”

Yosano sidles her gaze to him, “Why aren’t you? There isn’t a single bone in your body that tells you to win?”

An amused puff from Oda’s nose and a gentle smile signal that there is not.

After dinner, Oda retires to bed. Fyodor’s casual demeanor simmers into a dull caution. Hey locks eyes with Yosano, before averting his gaze.

“He is afraid.” the man says softly.

Yosano knits her eyebrows together, “Of what?” she asks.

“Us.”

Yosano stiffens, “What?”

“He is afraid we are going to tear each other apart; he is afraid he is going to have to pick up the pieces forever. We are sucking him of his vitality.”

I would be easier if the words came out harshly, if it was more like Fyodor was accusing them. With the soft, final tone, it’s like fact. This is how it is. They were fucking him up.

Yosano lets the tears line her vision. She shivers as thoughts race through her, pointing fingers: she is the culprit. This is her fault.

Nausea swirls in her gut as she says, “I don’t want to keep hurting him.”

Fyodor nods, “Nor do I.”

“So what do we do?”

Fyodor’s neutral expression breaks, “I don’t know.”

Worry bubbles up in her throat; her voice is almost hoarse with emotion, “How do we help him? How do we—” her voice cracks—"how do we do better?”

“I don’t know,” Fyodor is shaking just slightly as he says, “I will figure it out.”

“No,” she declares as he wips his head to truly look at her, “you’re not doing this alone. I am just as involved in it as you; we are doing this together. Fuck you for thinking I’d shove it onto you.”

Fyodor takes a steadying breath. Actually, he takes a few, then looks up at her and says, “I’m sorry, that was not my intention, Kiko.”

All the fight drains out of Yosano, “I know. Please don’t leave me out, I want to make this better just as much as you do. I can’t handle leaving it all to someone else. “

He nods, “You’re right, it was wrong of me to shoulder it alone. I wish this was something I could fix by myself, but it is not. And you need to be just as involved as I am. I cannot control this. I need your help.”

Yosano’s eyes are wet with tears, but she doesn’t let them fall just yet.

“I know, let’s do this, okay? Let’s solve it.”

Fyodor grabs her hand, “We will do better for him.”

[hxllo-nana]

Ok, gonna talk about underhell now:  So https://www.tumblr.com/underhell-png and/or https://berrynanapngxunderhell.blogspot.com/ 

So I just wanted to ramble some more about this AU and stuff, esp. with Hazbin Hotel Season 1 getting released.

And I just gotta say, both Alastor and Husk give me even more/so much Sans vibes and stuff.  Like, both have a  love of puns/Dad jokes, the hidden motives and secrets and/or etc., almost always smiling, to the point where u can’t always really tell what is behind that smile and is going on in that head of theirs (though with both Sans and Alastor, u can usually tell when they are pissed), Alastor’s sclera can get black and Sans’ eye-sockets can go completely black, both have powers that can help them suddenly disappear and/or etc. (Sans teleporting and/or time freeze powers) and Alastor’s shadow powers (Sans also hides in the shadows when u first meet him), I could see Sans’ losing hope in sinners not being able to get better/he could see them as being too far gone and/or basically/pretty much too far gone, and just overall more nihilistic in sinners redeeming kind of (but not exactly basically ofc) like Alastor, and/or etc.  They actually fit each other really well in a fair amount of ways, honestly.  

Husk and Sans also give off kind of similar demanours to me, and way of speaking kind of to me.  Also, Sans has a casino look, has a good poker face, and is very good at reading people, and Husk has connections to cards and stuff.  Both Alastor and Husk are quite and/or very smart too, like Sans.  Then there is the relationship of Husk and Angel Dust too.  Though, Sans as Alastor fits the Chara, Sans, and Asriel relations more.  And/or etc.  So yeah, both fit Sans pretty and/or very well actually.

(I know/I'm pretty sure Sans is some combo of like Alastor and Valentino, though btw, in some form.  Kind of like Gaster; kind of.  I don’t really know what to say about that though more specifically.  Yeah, whoops).

Asgore fits Lucifer very well; like so well.  They are both depressed Dads who are separated from their wives.  And just want to be good and/or better Dads and/or people.

(and both Alastor and Sans hint/show/have connections to thus separated wife.  I.e. Lilith and Toriel, lmao, hahaha).

I still love Chara as Charlie (Chara’s name itself is even kind of close) so much.  I just do.

I don’t really know what to say about Asriel with S1 info, I did like what u were already doing w/ him, but I am not sure what I would do with the S1 info with him, yet.

Undyne as Cherri Bomb and/or giving Cherri Bomb vibes still feels quite fitting and very good for her, but I am not completely sure.

I have no idea who Vaggie would be.  Like, I would say Frisk, but I know u have them as an Angel, and there is an Angel (whose name is escaping me at the moment, even though I like them) that wants to help Hell and stuff, that could also fit Frisk.

Muffet (or Truffet) gives me both Velvette vibes and Rosie vibes.  If u want to play more into Sans’ relationship w/ Muffet and them being friends, and give/have/keep Alastor inspiration for Sans and stuff, then Roise/more Rosie inspiration for Muffet would fit more.  I think both could fit her though.  Rosie seems to fit Muffet’s more formalness more and/or more the more darker parts of Muffet’s morality (though Vel has her own dark parts of her morality too; I just think Rosie’s own brand fits the darker parts of Muffet’s own a bit more).  

Vel’s fashion, way of speaking some, her influencer ways (I could see Muffet enterprising like Vel to get the stuff she wanted, Muffet’s quite the business-woman herself, and/or etc.), and/or etc. also fit Muffet quite well.  Muffet’s current (very cute and pretty) design kind of gives me Vel vibes too (for some reason).

Alphys I know u have as a the Cotton Candy Killer, and honestly, I don’t know where I who we would place her as and/or take inspiration from with the S1 stuff.  Vox?  Mimzy??  Rosie???  Maybe even Velvette too????  I don’t know.  I am not sure.

Gaster I don’t u have inspired by Valentino.  But I could see him being inspired by Vox too perhaps?  Hmmm????

I also, still love Paps as Angel Dust.  I just really like it.

Also, this is just me rambling a lot lol.  U don’t have to do any of these ideas for ur Hazbin Hotel Undertale AU/Underhell AU; it is ur AU after all!

Anyways, done with all the Underhell AU rambling!  And ur AU and stuff rambling in general.

I just want to say these very last things.  Happy late-ish birthday, ahaha.  And bye and good day and night, for now!  3/3.

LAST ONE, THANK YOU!

HAZBIN HOTEL SPOILERS IN HERE A BIT

- I REALLY want to change some roles in the hazbin au because holy shit i tried guessing the plot and none of them went my expectations 💀 .HUSK IS GIVING SANS VIBES AND HONESTLY IT’S MAKING ME WANNA CHANGE HIS CHARACTER A BIT. I plan on giving Sans the character of Alastor still (too many MANY similarities between the two aaaaa) and and something about husk’s character align into what I want to do with his character since Pap has the Angel dust role. I will play more into that later when I’m free with time lol. (God your giving me good ideas that fit into what I wanted to do HAHA)

- Valentino’s role is getting split similar to how Sans got 2 characters into him. Mettaton and Sans. Sans have traits to Val but Mettaton will tale most of Val’s role in terms of figure. Mettaton as a villain intrigues me HAHA.

- Muffet as Velvet takes my cake but in all honesty i think it’s best to change her role to Rosie’s role due to the fact that Rosie is friends with Alastor and Rosie is a cannibal like Muffet. The real Velvet i’m switching to Mew Mew. It fits the M&M (Mettaton and Mew Mew) like the Vees (Val, Vox, and Velvet). Also Mew Mew is as sassy and aggressive as Velvet and Mew Mew easily kicks/fires anyone who pisses her off similar to Velvet.

- Asgore as Lucifer I am so glad I have that character done right as well with Pap as angel but god..TORIEL AS LILITH, i’m eating this shit up istg. Asriel still plays as Vaggie. (Spoil) You know how Vaggie was found to be an exorcist? Well guess who in this au “betrays” Chara….*bounces across my room* Frisk is perfect for Emily(holy shit i didn’t expect and angel character similar to them but i’m so happy she is here) Undyne is still perfect for Cherry bomb. Here me out on the gay royal gaurds being Lute and Adam and no I will not take criticism from ANYONE. Temmie is still Nifty. AD is still fat nuggets.

- Alphys….i’m changing her to pentious. She has the same background as the “cotten candy killer” and i’ll get more into her character on how this weirdo became reedeemed lmaooo

- For Gaster….Let’s put this on a pause because I am leaning into Eve…

- WE LOVE ANGEL PAP IN THIS HOUSE HOLD

- Oh yeah, Alastor’s!Sans will be in Inkubator’s arc working with the dark council but he isn’t a major character, I will not say much more on this part.

- I plan on getting to Underhell soon when I have the extra time *w*

- Thanks for the f e b r u a r y birthday wish! I’ll see you next time Chat I love receiving your asks and support it means so much!!!

[true-blue-sonic]

how about two 🌹🌹’es?

👀🙏 hope you have a nice day!

Oehhhh, two roses :>

-----

“Sonic’s party is gonna be amazing! But you’re not much of a party guy, are you, Big?” Amy smiled. With these things it was always better to ask: considering her plans for Sonic’s birthday, it would not do to force her easy-going friend into the busyness and wildness that parties brought with them.  And this party would be the wildest and most epic party to ever grace the planet! Her beloved deserved as much!! Sure, Tails had told her Sonic would much rather prefer something calmer and more “chillaxed”, like the boys called it, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t go ahead and at least try and get as many people involved as possible!

Though, as expected, Big shook his head calmly. “Not really.”

“That’s okay. Sonic would be more than happy to come hang out with you solo, if you’d prefer.”

“Hmhm,” her friend agreed, fishing rod tensing in his grasp, and Amy whooped in awe as another fish got reeled right in. What a perfect way to spend this afternoon: with Big’s comfortably fluffy side to lean against she kept up scribbling on the papers, frowning at the invitation designs she’d been brainstorming about. Balloons, confetti, present boxes, cake, there were so many options…

And so little time, Amy startling up from her pondering at a loud croak beside her ear. “Oh! Hello, Froggy,” she smiled at the critter, reaching out to rub over his head. “What’s up?”

“Froggy is telling you it is almost time to go make dinner,” Big informed her- and with a gasp Amy scrambled upright. Indeed, the sun had steadily been sinking into the horizon-!

“Oh! Thanks for the heads-up, both of you.” Dusting off her dress she moved in to give Big a big hug, the other patting her head in goodbye. “I gotta continue with the party planning, too,” she added, gently putting Froggy where she’d been sitting and laughing at how comfortably he splooted on the warm spot. “It’s still a while away, but you know Tails. Anything to give Sonic the best birthday ever.”

-----

Sinking down beside him Amy hummed, gaze flitting all over him. Not at all the reaction he’d have expected from her… But if she had forgotten, of course she wouldn’t be mad at him for nearly killing Sonic twice, Silver sighed to himself. But if she had forgotten, Sonic would have too, and everyone else as well…?

“Amy… do you really not remember?” he asked, almost timidly. But as the words slipped past his lips, he already knew the answer: surely Amy would not play a prank like this on him, she’d said so herself. Nor had she ever seemed like the type to outright lie to people. And considering her reaction to him stating he’d tried to kill Sonic, or even his urging about Elise, had been complete unknowing…

“Silver, I’m sorry. I really don’t.”

“…That’s okay.” It very much wasn’t, yet Silver could only shrug under Amy’s sympathetic gaze. “And everything in the past is okay? There’s no dangers here?” he added; that was why he’d come here, after all!

…Even if apparently things were going so well everyone had completely forgotten about the dangers that had occurred in the first place…

With a little nod Amy reached out to him, her hand gently sinking onto his. It made Silver's ears press right against his head: Blaze had done so too, sometimes. Not often, but on the worst days, it had been precisely the comfort he needed. But Blaze was gone and he couldn’t keep thinking about her whenever anything happened, Silver scolded himself. “Nothing we can’t handle,” Amy responded, Silver fighting to make his concentration listen along. “Just some Eggman ploys and the like. I really can’t say that there’s been things going on that are acutely world-threatening.”

“Well, that’s… that’s good! I’m happy for you,” Silver did his best to smile. And he was, really! The past being okay was all he could ask for, after everything he’d done and everything that had happened.

[inquisimer]

MER MER MER POLITICAL MARRIAGE! POLITICAL MARRIAGE! Siobhan x Sebastian + ❛ it’s not for you. it’s not a favor. it’s the cruelest thing i could do. ❜ from the hero x villain prompts? 👀👀👀

POLITICAL MARRIAGE yeah I knew I would get you with that one hehehe

so like, they're rivals but they're friends? because I like to add a bit of nuance to the da2 companion approval mechanics lol

also this went a bit somfter than I intended whoops ;-;

for @dadrunkwriting and an honorary mention to @melisusthewee who sent me the same prompt for the same ship uwu

~~~

“If we do this—“ Siobhan began, and then stopped. She wasn’t sure where the sentence would end, and she didn’t care to continue like that.

“If?” Sebastian echoed. “You seemed quite certain a few days ago.”

“I am certain, it’s just” —she pursed her lips and pulled aside the curtains to gaze out at Hightown— “are you?”

His armor rasped a familiar cadence as he came to stand beside her. “And why would I not be?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like I’m not clearly getting the better end of this deal.” Siobhan scowled. Her breath fogged against the glass, obscuring the servants and couriers in the square below. “The most valuable part of Kirkwall is her port. And Starkhaven hardly needs marine access.”

“The most valuable part of Kirkwall is her leader. And there is nothing more precious than one who cares for her entirety."

He leaned sideways, one shoulder against the glass, and regarded her with those damnable eyes that always pierced her soul. “As you do.”

“I’m not even guaranteed the throne,” she countered.

“Oh please, Champion.” Sebastian chuckled. “It’s only a matter of time before Elthina sees reason and restrains the Knight-Commander. Who else do you suppose the nobility will turn to when that happens?”

“You never know who’s lurking in the shadows.”

The prince sobered. “True enough. Although, in all fairness, I’m hardly guaranteed Starkhaven either. That makes us rather even, no?”

“Starkhaven is your birthright!” Her armor smacked against his as one arm snapped out to whack his chest. “The only thing standing between you and it is your damn self.”

“While I would gladly leave Kirkwall in your very capable hands” —he cupped them as he spoke, rubbing comforting circles over callouses and scars— “I would not abandon you in this hour of need.”

“Starkhaven—“

“—has not yet fallen under the incompetent rule of my cousin. I very much doubt those who pull his strings are angling for the city’s destruction.”

“Must be nice,” Siobhan muttered darkly.

Sebastian’s fingers curled around her fist and she did not stop him as he pried her fingers open. In her palm was a ring, warmed from her skin and glinting in the torchlight. The design was custom, silver chains entwined with the furred dragons of Starkhaven.

Symbolic and beautiful and—

“But that’s not your only concern, is it?” Sebastian murmured.

Her hand clenched around the ring once more and she pressed it to her mouth. “Of course not.”

With the patience of a brother who has sat through many a stilted, awkward confession, Sebastian waited, giving Siobhan the space to find her meaning.

“I am…new…to nobility,” she began, slowly and methodically choosing each word. “I know that you do not always expect to marry for love. But I—my mother gave up everything for that chance.”

She took a deep breath and forced herself to look the prince dead on. “I’m not in love with you, Sebastian. I don’t know that I will ever be. I would not ask you to share your throne with someone who cannot give you her heart.”

“Ah, I see.” Sebastian hummed and she steeled herself for his anger, his lashing out with bitter pain.

“Hawke.” One gloved hand caught the underside of her chin. They were nearly the same height, so rather than tilting back, his hand traced the line of her jaw with gentle reverence. “There is love between us, but no romance. I have always known that and I brought this to you regardless.”

“Love is hardly so simple as to be a flat coin with only two sides,” he snorted and the tension Siobhan had imagined between them snapped like a cord under a blade. “The both of us would give anything for our cities. There is connection enough in that, and more in mutual respect, for this to flourish.”

“But what if—“

“As you said, you are new to nobility. And you know nothing of royalty.” Sebastian leaned back, a bit of a cocky smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Should I find a lady who could turn my attention from both you and Starkhaven, there is always room at a prince’s elbow for a consort.”

Siobhan rolled her eyes, but relief was a warm buzz through her veins. “It doesn’t bother you? To close that path forever?”

“No.” Certainty reverberated in a way that shouldn’t have been possible with just one syllable. “Don’t forget—I was to give up such earthly pleasures regardless. I have not thought of my own personal future in some time.”

“Of course,” Siobhan murmured. “But now—“

“Now I have a duty to Starkhaven,” he said firmly. “Anything beyond that is in the Maker’s hands. I will look to Him when that time comes, if it comes.”

He was so sure. It was enviable and unobtainable and Siobhan resented it as much as she loved it for him.

“Very well,” she opened her fist again and Sebastian threaded a thin leather cord through the ring. His breath ghosted over her skin as he lifted it over her head. The ring settled below the hollow of her throat and he fastened the cord with a strong knot behind her neck.

“You have walked beside me, down the paths where a thousand arrows sought my flesh,” he quoted softly. His accent shaped the Chant into something almost palatable; it pulled at the weary edges of Siobhan’s faith. “You have stood with me when all others have forsaken me.”

Her fingers found the foreign metal and played with it, staring out the window. She leaned back against Sebastian’s chest, solid, sturdy, supporting. Her rock. She was, as always, a fool to doubt.

“Though I bear scars beyond counting,” she murmured. “Nothing can break me except your absence.”